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EXERCISES 


CLASS  DAY 


JDartmouth 


OLLEGE 


TUESDAY,  JULY  16,  1867. 


CONCORD: 

PRINTED  BY  McFARLAND  & JENK£. 

1867. 


JAMES 


MARSHAL: 

W.  PALMER, 


GREAT  FALLS,  N.  H. 


ORATION. 


THE  IMMORTAL  BUILDING  AND  ITS  THREE  PILLARS. 


By  ROBERT  G.  McNIECE,  Topsham,  Yt. 


With  commingled  joy  and  sadness  we  stand  at  last 
upon  the  threshold  of  our  college  home,  awaiting  the 
last  maternal  benediction  and  counsel ; with  joy,  because 
of  the  possible  glory  of  the  future,  and  with  sadness, 
because  there  shall  return  to  us  never  again  “ the  tender 
grace  of  a day  that  is  dead.” 

It  was  our  fortune  to  enter  these  peaceful  retreats  of 
study  when  the  sky  was  darkened  by  the  frowning, 
somber  shadows  of  civil  war.  Hence  there  are,  doubtless, 
many  who  would  have  helped  to  swell  our  chorus  of  song 
to-day,  now  sleeping  in  nameless  graves  by  the  murmur- 
ing waters  of  the  James  and  the  Rappahannock.  Whether 
our  lot  be  preferable  to  theirs  or  not,  depends  wholly 
upon  the  purposes  with  which  we  go  out  from  under  the 
shadow  of  these  elms,  and  upon  the  character  of  our  lives 
and  death. 

Standing,  as  we  do,  in  the  foot-prints  of  many  whose 
names  are  never  spoken  here,  or  elsewhere,  but  with 
reverence  and  honor,  with  a long  farewell  upon  our  lips 
to  scenes  and  days  around  which  memory  will  ever  delight 
to  linger,  both  time  and  place  conspire  to  call  attention 
to  something  of  a grave  and  practical  nature.  “ The 
Immortal  Building  and  its  Three  Pillars,”  then,  is 
the  theme  which  invites  brief  but  serious  consideration. 
And  what  is  this  “ immortal  building  ?”  For  we  are 
accustomed  to  associate  decay  and  mortality  with  every 
thing  which  human  hands  can  frame.  Says  Sir  Thomas 


4 ORATION. 

Browne,  in  his  learned  and  matchless  discourse  on  Urn 
Burial:  “There  is  no  antidote  against  the  opium  of  time, 
which  temporally  considereth  all  things : our  fathers 
find  their  graves  in  our  short  memories,  and  sadly  tell  us 
how  we  may  be  buried  in  our  survivors’.” 

To  be  sure  the  same  pyramids,  which  four  thousand 
years  ago  looked  down  upon  the  shadowy  procession  of 
the  passing  generations,  still  stand  in  their  grim  majesty 
and  invincible  strength,  and  seem  to  bid  absolute  defiance 
to  “ time’s  effacing  fingers.”  Yet  we  can  not  doubt  that 
even  they  will  ultimately  crumble,  and  their  lofty  heads 
be  laid  low.  But  there  is  one  edifice,  fashioned  by  mortal 
architect,  on  which  the  moss  of  age  shall  not  gather,  and 
on  which  the  iron  mace  of  death  shall  leave  no  scar. 
That  eternal  and  unseen  fabric,  of  which  we  are  all 
builders,  is  human  character ; individual  character ; the 
only  commodity  which  mortals  can  carry  with  them 
through  the  narrow  portals  of  the  tomb ; the  only  thing 
constructed  by  human  agency  that  shall  endure  when  the 
heavens  above  us  shall  be  rolled  together  like  a scroll. 
This  can  not  be  too  often  sounded  in  our  ears ; for  on 
every  side  we  see  men,  like  thoughtless  children,  squan- 
dering energy  and  talent  in  building  little  shell-houses 
upon  the  sandy  shore,  which  the  effacing  tide  will  soon 
sweep  away  for  ever,  while  neglecting  to  add  a single 
stone  to  that  structure  which  is  to  be  the  never  ending 
home  of  the  soul.  Nor  can  it  be  forgotten,  though  the 
thought  be  terrible,  that  bad  character  and  good  are  alike 
immortal.  The  same  pen  which  tells  us  of  devout  Abel 
gives  us  the  name  of  his  murderer,  roaming  the  earth  a 
fugitive,  with  the  mark  of  heaven’s  vengeance  on  his  brow ; 
and  on  the  same  historic  page  are  linked  inseparably 
Thersites  and  Achilles,  Alcibiades  and  Socrates,  Arnold 
and  Washington.  But  you  are  asked  to  consider  noble 
character,  lofty  character.  It  rests  on  three  adamantine 
pillars.  The  first  is  truth,  or,  perhaps  better,  truthfulness, 
not  in  word  merely,  but  in  deed  and  life.  Says  Emerson, 
“Truth  is  the  summit  of  being;”  and  the  unrivaled 
Cowper  sings : 

“He  is  the  freeman  whom  the  truth  makes  free, 

And  all  $re  slaves  beside.” 

Yet  there  are  those  who  seem  to  think  they  can  lie  their 


ORATION. 


5 

way  to  glory,  gain  time  by  deceit,  and,  as  it  were,  out- 
general all  opponents.  They  may  have  success  for  a 
time  in  calm  weather,  but  when  the  storm  comes  they 
will  be  left  defenseless  and  bare;  for  all  character  that  is 
founded  on  dissimulation  and  falsehood  must  assuredly 
in  the  end  meet  with  overthrow  and  defeat. 

“ Dare  to  be  true.  Nothing  can  need  a lie: 

A fault  which  needs^it  most  grows  two  thereby.” 

So  it  proved  in  the  case  of  Charles  Stuart,  who  was  a 
dissembler.  Had  he  not  been  loyal  to  falsehood,  and  a 
traitor  to  the  truth,  a violator  of  the  most  sacred  pledges, 
and  a breaker  of  the  most  solemn  oath's,  the  block  had 
not  soaked  his  gore,  and  he  had  slept  in  peace  with  his 
fathers.  It  was  a very  striking  trait  of  one  of  the  greatest 
of  American  statesmen,  that  he  could  state  the  truth  of 
a matter  with  such  lucid  clearness  and  simple  force  that 
the  very  statement  was  enough  to  win  conviction.  Then 
it  was  that  McGregor  stood  upon  his  native  heath,  and 
friends  and  foes  alike  could  say  with  the  followers  of 
Clan  Alpine : 

“ One  blast  upon  his  bugle-horn 
Were  worth  a thousand  men.” 

But  there  came  a time  when  Roderic  saw  fit,  for  the 
sake  of  a glittering  bubble,  to  round  oft’  the  corners  of 
the  truth,  which  it  had  been  alike  the  joy  of  his  youth 
and  the  pride  of  his  manhood  to  maintain  ; to  cast  it 
behind  him,  and  then  to  substitute,  in  place  thereof,  the 
most  atrocious  and  baseless  of  all  falsehoods.  How 
quickly  then  did  the  splendor  of  his  great  fame  grow 
dim,  and  his  sun  at  noon-day  become  shrouded  in  portent- 
ous gloom,  the  shadows  of  which,  even  yet,  hover  dark 
around  the  place  where  he  sleeps.  Truth  implies  knowl- 
edge, and  knowledge  is  power.  On  what  an  immovable 
basis  then  does  the  man  of  truth  and  honor  stand.  The 
hosts  of  darkness  may  encompass  him,  but  he  can  laugh 
them  to  scorn,  for  the  Almighty  and  his  angels  encamp 
round  about  him. 

The  second  pillar  on  which  all  worthy  character  must 
rest,  is  virtue,  or  moral  excellence ; not  the  cold  and  lifeless 
formula  of  some  utilitarian  Bentham,  but  living  principle, 
based  upon  the  primal  truths  of  Christianity. 


ORATION. 


6 

Paradoxical  as  it  may  seem,  one  may  be  truthful  and 
sincere,  and  yet  be  immoral.  But  no  talent,  however 
brilliant;  no  genius,  however  commanding;  can  atone  for 
lack  of  moral  rectitude. 

The  ancients  gave  to  Divinity  three  attributes:  immor- 
tality, power,  and  virtue ; “ of  which  three,”  says  Plutarch, 
“ the  noblest  and  divinest  is  virtue.”  There  is  a very 
remarkable  passage  in  the  works  of  DeQuincey ; a man 
who  had  surveyed  the  whole  ifeld  of  ancient  literature 
with  philosophic  eye,  and  knew  the  great  men  of  modern 
fame  as  one  knows  the  alphabet.  44  My  faith,”  he  says, 
“ is,  that  though  a great  man  may,  by  a rare  possibility, 
be  an  infidel,  an  intellect  of  the  highest  order  must  build 
upon  Christianity.”  Striking  utterance,  and  one  demand- 
ing careful  thought,  considering  the  authority  which  lends 
it  weight.  In  these  days,  when  the  foundations  of  things 
are  being  broken  up,  and  every  thing  sifted  with  critical 
severity,  one  can  scarcely  cling  with  too  much  tenacity  to 
the  simple,  unadorned  Christian  truths  and  principles  his 
mother  taught  him,  until  he  is  absolutely  certain  that 
what  he  is  asked  to  place  his  feet  upon  is  indeed  a rock, 
and  not  some  metaphysical  illusion. 

One  very  ominous  feature  of  the  present  is  the  homage 
paid  to  mere  talent,  and  the  low  estimate  that  is  put  upon 
character.  Men  are  elevated  to  the  most  responsible 
places  whose  private  lives  are  stained  with  all  manner  of 
disgraceful  vice,  and  then  comes  the  bitter  harvest  of 
defalcation  and  political  chicanery  and  corruption.  And 
no  matter  how  depraving  the  influence  and  example — 
how  unworthy  the  life — there  comes  forth  some  persuasive 
Pericles  to  gild  it  with  eulogium,  and  drown  disgrace  in 
unstinted  praise.  If  Satan  himself,  by  some  lucky  mishap, 
should  become  defunct,  there  would  doubtless  appear 
sorqyB  admiring  friend  to  apologize  for  the  little  irregular- 
ities of  his  life,  and  laud  him  for  his  domestic  virtues. 

We  are  dazzled  by  the  luster  of  great  names,  and 
blinded  by  the  radiance  of  genius,  until  virtue  seems  to  be 
of  little  worth.  Magie  pens  and  silver  tongues  transform 
into  an  angel  of  light,  before  our  bewildered  eyes,  some 
Scottish  poet,  whose  life  was  bedraggled  in  debauchery; 
who  sneered  at  religion ; mocked  at  virtue  with  his  pen,  and 
trampled  it  under  foot  by  bitter  example  ; and  then,  at  the 
early  age  of  thirty-seven,  slept  in  a drunkard’s  grave.  Draw 


ORATION. 


7 

over  the  errors  of  poor  humanity  the  fraternal  mantle  of 
forgiving  charity,  and  pay  all  becoming  tribute  to  the  poet, 
the  sweet  music  of  whose  song  is  not  only  blended  for  ever 
with  the  rippling  waters  of  the  Ayr  and  the  Doon,  but 
sends  cheerful  echoes  alike  to  the  peasant’s  cottage  and 
the  hall  of  princes.  Let  admiration,  if  need  be,  liken 
him  to  an  “H£olian  harp,  in  whose  strings  the  vulgar 
wind,  as  it  passed  through  them,  changed  itself  into  artic- 
ulate melody but  let  not  unreasonable  praise,  either 
Scottish  or  American,  place  him  before  the  world  as  a man 
of  regal  port,  who  met  the  ills  of  life  with  patient  fortitude, 
lest  others  be  encouraged  to  drown  misfortune  in  dissipa- 
tion, and  vice  and  profligacy  be  cherished  as  stepping 
stones  to  monumental  fame. 

It  is  said  that  when  Marshal  McDonald  made  that 
terrible  charge  which  pierced  the  Austrian^center,  in  the 
memorable  battle  of  Wagram,  his  course  for  three  miles 
could  be  marked  by  a tortuous  windrow  of  corpses.  So 
every  one  who  undertakes  to  march  through  the  world 
without  being  securely  clad  in  the  panoply  of  moral 
excellence,  will  find  in  the  end  that  his  own  forces  have 
been  terribly  decimated,  and  behind  him  a darkened  line 
of  prostrate  human  souls,  whom  his  noxious  influence  has 
blasted  as  he  passed.  Let  it  be  carved  in  letters  of 
unfading  brightness,  over  the  entrance  to  every  profession, 
that  “ The  temple  of  honor  is  bolted  against  none  who 
have  passed  through  the  temple  of  virtue.” 

The  last  pillar  of  character  is  Heroism ; not  that  dis- 
played upon  the  bloody  deck, nor  tented  field;  but  moral, 
Christian  heroism.  First,  a worthy  purpose ; then,  ad- 
herence to  the  death.  Ho  one  need  go  about  apologizing 
to  those  he  meets  for  his  presence  in  the  world  ; but  he 
must  do  it,  unless  his  character  is  based  upon  the  pillars  of 
wThich  we  speak.  We  need  not  run  to  Marathon,  nor  to 
the  “ rocky  gorge  of  Hellas,”  to  hunt  for  heroism,  nor  to 
the  gibbet  or  stake  as  a place  to  manifest  it.  For — 

“ ’T  is  as  easy  to  be  heroes  as  to  sit  the  idle  slaves 
Of  a legendary  virtue,  carved  upon  our  fathers’  graves.” 

Exacting  conventionalism  and  brazen  precedent  are  the 
fetters  which  bind  the  consciences  and  minds  of  men.  In 
the  terse  language  of  Emerson,  “ The  virtue  in  most 
request  is  conformity.”  To  cut  one’s  self  loose  from  the 


#' 

8 ORATION. 

relentless  bonds  of  unreasonable  custom  ; “ to  leap  the  rot- 
ten pales  of  prejudice,”  and  deliberately  take  one’s  stand 
upon  the  despised  platform  of  some  individual  conviction 
of  right  and  duty,  as  did  the  anti-slavery  heroes  of  thirty- 
live  years  ago,  requires  a heroism  scarcely  less  than  that 
which  wreathes  the  martyr’s  head  with  its  crown  of  glory 
and  flame.  But  it  must  be  done,  or  manhood  is  swal- 
lowed up  in  the  all-engulfing  current  of  blind  adherence  to 
custom  or  party.  The  most  imperativemeed  of  “ the  land 
of  all  we  love”  is  not  for  erudite  scholars  and  brilliant 
poets;  great  advocates  and  wise  statesmen  ; but  for  men  of 
truth;  moral  men — heroic  men;  who  shall  set  justice 
above  policy ; manhood  above  prosperous  commerce  or 
material  glory ; men  who  shall  stand  unwavering  in  the 
presence  of  the  most  alluring  tempation,  even  as  the 
stalwart  Crorflwell  and  his  redoubtable  Ironsides  were 
wont  to  stand  with  calmness  upon  the  bristling  crest  of 
battle,  inspiring  their  foes  with  terror  and  their  friends 
with  hope,  and  by  the  all-potent  majest#y  of  their  very  ex- 
ample, wrench  departing  victory  from  under  the  very  “ ribs 
of  death ;”  men,  the  luster  of  whose  private  lives  shall 
redeem  American  politics  from  its  vile  shroud  of  infamy 
and  falsehood,  and  open  the  way  for  placing  in  official 
station  those  who  shall  neither  bring  disgrace  upon  them- 
selves, nor  compel  their  countrymen  to  hang  their  heads 
in  shame.  Hot  the  greatest  part,  I ween,  of  that  ever- 
during  chaplet  of  honorable  fame  which  encircles  the 
majestic  brow  of  John  Milton,  is  due  to  the  fact  that  he 
wrote  unrivaled  verse  of  such  “ linked  sweetness”  as  to 
connect  his  name  evermore  with  him  who  tuned  his 
immortal  lyre  amid  the  rock-girt  islands  of  the  ^Egean 
sea ; but  because  his  “ whole  life  was  a heroic  poem ;” 
because,  in  dark  days  when  the  hearts  of  men  failed  them 
for  fear,  he  stood  forth  the  fearless  champion  of  a despised 
but  righteous  cause,  and  when  republicanism  had  been 
crushed  beneath  the  wheels  of  monarchy,  when  the 
headsman’s  axe  had  sent  his  old  coadjutors,  Vane  and 
Hampden,  to  martyr’s  graves,  and  a cowardly  king  had 
heaped  indignity  upon  the  bones  of  the  conqueror  of 
Naseby  and  Marston  Moor,  his  eagle  spirit  was  unsubdued, 
and  rebuking  the  cowardice  of  some  of  his  associates, 
amid  obloquy  and  scorn,  amid  poverty  and  blindness,  he 
maintained  his  high-souled  integrity  to  the  very  death. 


ORATION. 


9 

None  of  us  may  sit  in  chairs  of  state,  or  bind  our  brows 
with  wreaths  of  worldly  fame  ; but  each  and  every  one 
•can  carve  for  himself  a manly  character.  And  whether 
the  sphere  in  which  Providence  may  place  him  be  broad 
or  narrow,  he  can  cheer  the  hearts  of  his  fellow  mortals  by 
steadfast  adherence  to  a high  purpose,  and  leave  behind 
him  the  sw^eet  and  abiding  influence  of  a pure  life. 

Whoever  does  this,  though  he  dwell  in  obscurity,  and  not 
a single  stone  mark  the  place  where  he  sleeps,  leads  a suc- 
cessful life.  The  world  may  not  call  it  success,  but  such 
it  is,  measured  by  the  only  true  standard.  Let  us  try  it. 

On  the  shore  of  one  of  our  great  lakes  there  is  a 
grave  in  which  sleeps  the  dust  of  a distinguished  man, — 
distinguished  for  his  native  ability,  for  his  energy,  worthy 
of  all  commendation,  and  for  that  persistency  which  is 
one  of  the  noblest  prerogatives  of  Saxon  blood.  His 
cradle  was  poverty — his  school  privation,  but  he  tri- 
umphed over  all  and  sat  where  princes  might  aspire  to 
stand.  In  the  long  procession  that  followed  him  to  his 
grave,  “the  horn-handed  breakers  of  the  glebe”  walked  amid 
the  carriages  of  the  wealthy  and  those  high  in  place.  The 
corner  stone  of  the  lofty  column  erected  to  his  memory 
was  laid  with  regal  pomp  and  national  honor,  and  he  is 
pointed  out  as  the  proud  growth  of  free  government,  and 
as  one  who  from  obscurity  achieved  renowned  success. 
Nojv  I dare  say,  that  so  far  from  being  a success,  his  life 
was  an  abject  failure,  because  the  character  on  which  it 
rested  was  “ built  on  stubble.”  His  whole  public  life  never 
rose  above  policy.  He  never  pretended  to  be  governed 
by  any  just  principle  of  morality — believing  that  religion 
and  politics  should  be  kept  separate.  Indeed,  one  who 
occupies  no  mean  place  in  American  literature,  himself 
above  all  reproach,  says  that  “ of  all  our  noted  politicians, 
he  was  the  one  who  reduced  immorality  in  politics  to  a 
science.”  You  may  search  his  record  in  vain  to  find  a 
word  or  deed  in  which  he  ever  took  his  stand  upon  any 
principle  of  equity  or  moral  obligation.  He  was  one  of 
that  school  of  statesmen  who  stand  upon  the  rotten  plat- 
form whose  one  rotten  plank  is  “ Our  country,  right  or 
wrong.”  It  was  truthfully  said  of  him  that  “ he  confirmed 
no  young  man’s  faith,  he  cheered  no  old  man’s  despond- 
ency.” His  one  solitary  aim  was  to  wield  the  scepter  of 
the  nation,  and  to  obtain  this  the  dearest  of  human  rights 


ORATION. 


10 

was  considered  as  a mere  feather  in  the  balance.  Yet, 
standing  by  his  grave,  the  Premier  of  the  Republic  could 
say  in  the  ears  of  American  youth,  that  to  this  man*  whose  • 
claim  to  statesmanship  rests  on  a political  trick,  who 
discarded  from  politics  every  moral  sentiment,  to  this  man 
“the  nation  and  mankind  owe  an  irredeemable  debt,  and 
he  will  live  in  the  memory  and  homage  of  mankind  with 
Lincoln,  and  with  the  Washingtons  and  Hamiltons  of  the 
Revolutionary  age.”  Row  if  the  life  of  such  a man  be  a 
success,  who  does  not  pray  for  failure  ? If  such  be  success, 
and  the  world  says  it  is,  then  did  Milton,  Hampden  and 
Sidney,  Knox,  Luther  and  Paul,  “die  as  the  fool  dietb.” 
Then  eternal  ignominy  and  oblivion  should  for  ever  settle 
around  that  grave  at  Phalerum,  on  the  shore  of  Attica, 
where  two  thousand  years  ago  was  buried  a poor  exile, 
wbo,  by  the  consenting  voice  of  ages,  is  held  up  as  the 
impersonation  of  virtue,  and  of  whom  the  prince  of  all 
biographers,  quoting  from  Plato,  says,  “ that  of  all  the 
great  and  renowned  men  in  the  city  of  Athens,  he  was 
the  only  one  worthy  of  consideration  ; for  Themistocles, 
Cimon,  and  Pericles,  filled  the  city  with  porticoes,  treasure, 
and  many  other  vain  things  ; but  Aristides  guided  his 
public  life  by  the  rule  of  justice;  “being  of  opinion,” 
Plutarch  adds,  “ that  the  integrity  of  his  words  and  actions 
was  the  only  right  security  for  a good  citizen.”  Be  not 
deceived  by  this  word  success , nor  by  the  grand  eulogiums 
and  stately  monuments  which  even  by  national  aid  are 
bestowed  upon  the  dead.  Says  good  old  Thomas  Fuller, 
“ He  was  a witty  man  who  first  taught  a stone  to  speak ; 
but  he  was  a wicked  man  that  taught  it  first  to  lie.” 
Success  ! I could  take  you  to-day  to  the  sequestered  spot 
where  sleep  the  remains  of  one  whose  name  will  never 
be  known  beyond  the  narrow  boundary  of  a neighbor- 
hood, or  to  one  whose  footsteps,  scarcely  more  than  a 
a year  ago,  were  wont  to  echo  in  these  halls,  with  whose 
spotless  life  and  influence  the  best  might  wish  to  be 
dowered.  And  just  in  proportion  as  a treasure  which 
can  be  carried  through  the  dark  and  narrow  vale  of  death, 
and  serve  as  a passport  to  eternal  glory,  is  above  that 
which  moth  can  corrupt  and  which  must  be  left  at  the 
grave’s  brink,  just  in  that  proportion  is  this  obscure  life  a 
greater  and  grander  success  than  that  of  the  statesman 
sleeper  who  was  buried  with  national  honor,  and  whose 


ORATION.  11 

memory  must  be  linked  to  a granite  column  to  preserve 
it  from  the  mold  of  oblivion. 

Some  fifty  years  hence  there  will  be  for  the  class  priv- 
ileged to  sit  on  this  platform  to-day  thirty-eight  graves. 
And  doubtless  the  sweet  song  of  summer  birds  in  yonder 
elms  shall  greet  the  ears  of  some  of  us  not  again.  We  need 
not  shrink  from  the  mention  of  this,  for  we  know  full 
well  that  even  the  grave,  instead  of  being  the  stair-way 
of  descent  to  corruption  and  darkness,  can  be  made  the 
ladder  of  Jacob,  conducting  to  light  and  glory  immortal. 
Where  these  graves  may  be,  matters  little,  whether  on 
the  green  hill  side,  the  distant  prairie,  or  at  the  bottom  of 
the  sea ; but  it  matters  much  what  shall  be  the  epitaphs 
wrritten  upon  them.  And  let  it  not  be  forgotten  that  we 
are  writing  them  here,  and  now,  by  the  aims,  principles 
and  purposes  which  we  determine  to  make  the  pole- 
star  of  our  lives.  Whatever  be  the  aspirations  of  any  in 
this  profession  or  that,  let  the  highest  of  all  ambition 
be  to  build  a character  buttressed  by  the  never-failing 
pillars  of  truth,  Christian  principle,  and  heroic  fortitude, 
which  shall  stand  unshaken  when  the  pillars  of  Hercules 
have  bowed  their  majestic  heads  in  the  dust.  He  who 
has  the  anchor  of  such  a character  need  fear  no  misfortune, 
no  storm  of  adversity,  for  he  is 

“ Moored  in  the  rifted  rock, 

Proof  to  the  tempest’s  shock.” 

As  Fuller  says  of  his  good  yeoman,  “ though  he  serveth 
on  foot,  he  is  ever  mounted  on  a high  spirit and  when 
the  scenes  of  earth  are  receding  for  ever  from  his  mortal 
vision,  he  can — 

“ — lay  his  just  hands  on  that  golden  key 
That  opes  the  palace  of  eternity.” 


POEM. 


By  AMOS  W.  WRIGHT. 


Dame  Nature  is  the  type  of  human  thought, 

And  when  she  veils  her  brightness  we  are  brought, 
Through  sympathy,  into  a graver  sphere, 

And  to  our  distant  selves  perhaps  more  near. 

As  from  the  low’ring  clouds  and  storm  swept  earth 
Our  minds  are  made  to  comprehend  the  worth 
Of  sunnier  days,  e’en  so  from  hours  of  sadness 
We  learn  to  truly  value  those  of  gladness. 

Life’s  artist  paints  the  somber  hues  of  grief 
To  bring  our  joys  in  still  more  full  relief, 

And  forms  his  picture  thus  of  light  and  shade, 

Of  rainbow  tints  with  those  of  gloom  inlaid, 

Of  rugged  hills  which  form  the  peaceful  vale 
And  when ’t  is  done,  the  gentler  parts  prevail. 

Such  are  our  lives — and  when  we  view  the  past 
The  harsher  tints  by  years  are  overcast 
And  milder  toned,  as  in  the  twilight  gray 
The  roughness  of  a landscape  fades  away. 

And  classmates,  whom  old  ruthless  Time  has  hurled 
Most  through  this  college  world  within  a world, 

So,  when  our  lives  their  length’ning  shadows  throw, 
Shall  we  review  the  days  of  long-ago. 

If  we  are  spared  long  hence,  as  gray-haired  men, 

To  walk  beneath  these  well  loved,  elms  again, 

Those  gone,  perchance,  who  led  us  through  the  maze 
Of  follies  that  beset  our  youthful  days, 

Who  turned  our  thoughts  to  things  of  greater  good, 
And  hope  we  not  in  vain ; yet  where  they  stood 
We  will  remember,  and  the  vacant  places 
So  nobly  filled  by  their  familiar  faces 
Will  prove  an  aching  void  upon  the  sight ; 

A void  indeed,  but  in  fond  memory’s  light 
Their  absent  forms  will  greet  our  eyes  again, 

And  we  shall  live  in  days  that  once  have  been. 

Ah  ! College  life — but  pardon  our  poor  Muse 


POEM. 


13 

If  she  should  dare  some  other  path  to  choose, 

To  wander  from  the  worn  and  beaten  track 
By  college  poets  trod  for  ages  back. 

We  know  its  power  of  inspiration 
Combats  all  thought  of  a migration, 

And  to  place  the  old  in  the  garb  of  rhyme 
Is  an  easier  task  and  takes  less  time 
Than  to  essay  a creative  vein, 

And,  beside,  involves  less  wear  of  the  brain. 

But  now  we  live  in  a venturesome  age, 

With  conservative  errors  pushed  from  the  stage, 

And  if,  in  trying  to  follow  the  fashion, 

Our  muse  should  fail,  she  asks  your  compassion. 

We  love  to  sit  and  think  of  by-gone  days, 

And  they  affect  us  in  a thousand  ways, 

Have  made  us  what  we  are  ; and  what  we  ’ve  lost 
Is  gone  for  ever,  ours  alone  the  cost. 

Our  past  stands  fixed  and  never  to  be  changed, 

A well  known  country  over  which  we  ’ve  ranged, 

Scr  that  our  mind  with  easy  steps  can  go 
Through  every  path  and  by-way  ; but  not  so 
The  future,  where  some  fancy  forms  may  loom 
In  outline  dim  and  then  be  lost  in  gloom. 

And  thence,  as  miners,  delving  under  ground 
For  hidden  wealth  that  in  the  rocks  is  found, 

We  quarry  out  our  life’s  uncertain  course, 

Its  various  deeds,  its  gladness,  its  remorse ; 

And,  when  the  precious  ore  the  furnace  clears, 

The  refuse  is  our  broken  hopes  and  tears. 

But  there  are  peerless  jewels  in  this  mine 
Whose  rays  with  bright  effulgence  ever  shine  ; 

And  from  them  all  no  clearer  radiance  glows 
Than  that  which  from  a noble.manhood  flows. 

And  when  our  separate  streams  of  life  at  last 
Into  the  one  great  sea  of  death  are  cast, 

Wherj  our  tired  feet  their  earthly  round  have  trod, 

Our  spirits  yielded  up  themselves  to  God, 

There  is  a no  more  grateful  offering  made 
Than  this  with  reverence  on  his  altar  laid. 

It  needs  no  vaunting  words  of  prose  or  song 
To  tell  what  virtues  to  its  realm  belong  : 

It  stands  forth  boldly,  comprehending  all 
The  brave  and  good,  and  as  some  mountain  tall 
Above  the  clouds  erects  its  snowy  crest, 

While  lower  peaks  the  wind  and  rain  invest  ; 


14  POEM. 

So  does  true  manhood  reach  above  the  storm 
Of  envious  guilt  which  lesser  minds  deform, 
And  hear  the  print  of  truth  upon  its  brow, 
Before  which  all  the  meaner  motives  how. 

Nor  need  we  look  to  any  far-off  land 
To  find  examples,  when  so  near  us  stand 
Those  who  have  fought  to  lessen  human  woe; 
Ah,  from  our  Alma  Mater’s  side  they  go 
From  out  her  walls  full  many  noble  men, 

And  many  such  will  issue  thence  again. 

Beneath  that  dome  upon  Potomac’s  side 
Where  factious  spirits’  envious  thoughts  reside, 
Where  bribes,  ambition  and  corruption  throng 
The  weak  to  conquer  and  unman  the  strong, 
Where  treachery  disguised,  insidious  lurks 
In  honor’s  garb,  to  do  its  evil  works, 

A noble  champion  for  the  right  has  stood 
Unmoved,  to  labor  for  his  nation’s  good  ; 

And  there  is  written  on  the  book  of  fame 
No  brighter  line  than  Thaddeus  Stevens’  name. 
Let  those  who  hope  a ruler’s  seat  to  gain, 

If  the  fair  prize  long  sought  for  they  obtain 
Through  fortune  kind,  let  them  remember  then 
The  nation’s  greatest  need  is  honest  men. 

The  age  has  gone  when  glory  could  be  won 
In  wars  alone,  by  deeds  of  valor  done ; 

And  he  the  champion  of  a righteous  cause, 
Who  never  deigns  at  threats  or  jeers  to  pause, 
Bears  in  his  breast  as  true  courageous  fire 
As  ever  warrior  felt  his  soul  inspire ; 

And  armed  men  no  harder  are  to  fight 
Than  old  time-honored  errors  to  set  right. 

A generation  scarce  has  passed  away 
Since  your  much  boasted  Boston  saw  the  day, 

A lingering  remnant  of  those  years  long  back 
When  hellish  tortures  of  the  flame  and  rack 
Were  used  as  rightful  arguments  to  wring 
A base  submission  to  a bigot  king, 

A man,  half  naked,  through  the  streets  was  led, 
With  hoots  and  jeers  and  curses  on  his  head, 
Led  by  a rope,  because  he  wished  to  blot 
From  out  our  flag  its  foul  and  only  spot. 

Yet  ever  forward  on  his  course  he  pressed 
And  Garrison  by  millions  now  is  blessed. 


POEM. 


15 

From  all  around,  from  legislative  halls, 

From  nature,  science,  and  existing  wrong, 

The  self  same  clarion  voice  appealing  calls 
For  earnest  men  their  various  paths  to  throng. 

The  earth  has  yielded  of  her  treasurers  up 
Enough  the  curious  brain  for  aye  to  press ; 

And  still ’t  is  hut  a drop  from  out  the  cup, 

Yet  filled  the  toils  of  future  thought  to  bless. 

The  ocean  beckons  on  from  every  side, 

Each  star  with  twinkle  bright  says  “ What  am  I ?” 

The  arctic  zone  unfolds  its  portals  wide 
And  asks  the  secret  of  its  radiant  sky. 

In  far  otf  lands,  beneath  a tropic  sun, 

Dark  ignorance  though  mute  is  eloquent, 

And  points  to  works  of  mercy  yet  undone, 

To  God  appointed  labors  yet  unspent. 

Our  lives  should  mark  their  course  as  little  streams 
Which  pass  through  meadows  showing  where  they  flow, 

By  lines,  upon  thei*  banks  where  verdure  beams, 

Bedecked  with  beauty  where  so  e’er  they  go. 

Such  streams  as  find  their  source  in  heights  above 
Where  bubble  up  the  never  failing  springs 
Of  justice,  pity,  sympathy,  and  love, 

And  bless  the  earth  in  all  their  wanderings. 

The  sturdy  pine  withstands  the  wintry  blast 
With  limbs  protecting  from  the  snow  and  hail ; 

So  heroes  stand,  in  war’s  deep  tumult  cast, 

And  meet  the  storm  before  which  others  quail. 

The  tender  flow’ret,  which  the  zephyrs  bend 
In  beauty,  yields  its  fragrance  to  the  air  ; 

So  little  acts  of  love  and  friendship  send 
Their  many  nameless  blessings  every  where. 

If  there  is  aught  within  this  world  of  ours, 

And  it  has  thorns,  God  knows,  as  well  as  flowers — 

If  there  is  aught  that  can  the  heart  beguile 
From  harrowing  care  when  fortune  will  not  smile, 

It  is  when  friendship’s  gentle  influence  steals 
One  from  his  darker  self,  and  so  reveals, 

Behind  the  curtain  of  his  gloomy  thought, 

A brighter  picture  than  his  fancy  wrought ; 

And  makes  the  opening  future  wear  again 


POEM. 


16 

A cheerful  aspect  to  his  tortured  brain. 

And  this  it  is  that  we  should  nurture  here 
Sorrow  to  soothe  and  wipe  the  falling  tear, 

A kind  and  heartfelt  sympathy  to  lend, 

To  truly  merit  the  blessed  name  of  friend. 

True  manhood  is  not  made  of  stuff  so  stern 
As  all  these  gentler  attributes  to  spurn. 

The  last  great  act  of  Sidney  served  to  shed 
A brighter  halo  round  his  honored  head, 

When,  wounded,  sore,  and  parched  with  torturing  thirst, 
He  gave  the  water  to  his  comrade  first. 

The  goal  we  labor  for  is  never  won — 

Our  work  upon  the  earth  is  never  done — 

When  gained  at  length,  the  hoped  for  end,  which  seems 
The  ultimatum  of  our  youthful  dreams, 

Far,  far  beyond  a widening  prospect  lies, 

Its  beauties  opening  to  our  eager  eyes  ; 

So  ever  in  new  paths  we  seek  to  tread, 

And  new  born  hopes  rise  in  the  restless  head ; 

So  move  we  on  the  never  ending  way, 

So  moves  the  world,  progressing  da  *by  day, 

And  he  who  tarries  oft  is  left  behind 
A laggard  in  the  ceaseless  march  of  mind. 

Why  is  it  thus  ? Let  those  who  seek  reply  • 

Find  it  in  other  realms  beyond  the  sky. 

Press  onward ; if  ambition  be  your  guide, 

So  use  it  that  good  angels  will  not  chide  ; 

Strive  honestly  the  earned  reward  to  meet 
And  find  it  other  that  a “ glorious  cheat.” 

So  may  your  names  to  fame  be  not  unknown 
And  on  your  brows  rest  laurels  yet  ungrown. 

O Fame,  to  youthful  hearts  the  higest  prize 
That  here  on  earth  the  brain  or  hand  may  win, 

Within  thy  realms  what  subtile  power  lies 
That  men  contend  to  gain  thee  e’en  with  sin. 

For  thee  Herostratus  the  temple  burned, 

Glory  of  Ephesus,  Ionia’s  pride, 

That  when  the  pages  of  the  past  were  turned 
Though  linked  with  shame  his  name  might  be  descried. 

To  thee  the  blood  of  thousands  weighs  as  nought 
Within  the  balance  of  the  conqueror’s  mind  ; 

All  else  unheeding,  onward  has  he  fought, 

With  cities  sacked-and  ruined  lands  behind. 


POEM. 


IT 

For  thee,  with  nobler  impulse  labored  one, 

A son  of  genius  and  with  sightless  eye, 

To  leave  a tribute  when  his  course  was  run, 

“ Which  the  world  would  not  willingly  let  die.” 

And  sure ’t  is  something  great  for  men  to  feel 
They  still  will  live  though  ages  pass  the  while  ; 

As  on  our  minds  in  glory  e’er  will  steal, 

“ The  blind  old  man  of  Scio’s  rocky  isle.” 

But  should  the  power  of  glory  be  so  strong 
As  to  repel  all  other  from  our  thought, 

To  lure  us  on  through  deeds  or  right  or  wrong 
Nor  reck  the  cost  at  which  it  shall  be  bought. 

Does  Nero’s  name  a priceless  boon  appear? 

Does  Thersites  awake  your  admiration  ? 

Or  does  the  deathless  pedestal  they  rear 
Impel  you  on  with  ardent  emulation  ? 

Far  sweeter  comes  unto  our  ear  the  song 
That  hymns  the  praise  of  Milton,  blind  and  old. 

More  grateful  thoughts  round  Sidney’s  memory  throng 
Whose  deeds  in  life  were  diamonds  set  in  gold. 

And  yet  th^re  comes  a voice  from  far-off  Greece, 

From  days  replete  with  glorious  men  who  sent 
Their  fame  unto  our  own.  In  war  and  peace 
Her  past  is  like  her  “ Old  Man  Eloquent.” 

Such  lives  there  are  as  thrill  the  blood  of  youth, 

And  kindle  bright  the  flame  of  aspiration. 

Such  lives  there  are  of  nobleness  and  truth, 

As  wake  the  earnest  thought  of  imitation. 

And  though ’t  is  only  to  the  favored  few 
The  boon  is  given  erst  by  Juno  offered 
To  Paris,  where  Mount  Ida’s  forests  grew, 

And  where  he  chose  the  gift  that  Yenus  proffered. 

Yet  lies  it  now  within  our  power  to  grasp 
The  greater  worth  Minerva  saw  him  fling 
Away,  because,  poor  youth,  he  wished  to  clasp 
The  fairest  wife  that  all  the  land  could  bring. 

Ah,  why  do  men  throw  wisdom  in  the  shade, 

And  buy  the  present  joy  with  future  woe? 

Ask  Antony,  ask  Paris,  why  they  laid 
Their  glory  down  and  lost  all  else  below. 


2 


18  POEM. 

Far  be  it  from  our  thought  to  draw  from  thence 
A proof  that  woman’s  influence  drags  us  down; 

Her  deeds  are  more,  far  more  than  recompense 
For  all  the  ills  that  lessen  her  renown. 

There  was  a maiden,  when  men’s  spirits  failed, 

Who  raised  their  courage  from  a lifeless  trance, 

Who  faced  the  storm,  when  stouter  hearts  had  quailed, 
And  drove  th’  invader  from  her  land  of  France. 

We  ’ve  read  of  mothers  who  inspired  their  sons 
With  eager  valor  for  the  unequal  strife  ; 

And  from  the  pen  no  worthier  tribute  runs 
Than  honest  praises  of  the  Spartan  wife. 

We  know  of  mothers  who  have  filled  our  hearts 
With  what  of  virtue  haply  we  possess, 

Whose  love,  through  all  the  coming  years,  imparts 
Its  pleading  guidance  erring  lives  to  bless. 

And  there  are  others,  — to  repeat  whose  names 
Might  bring  into  our  cheeks  the  treacherous  glow, 
Whose  image  dear  full  many  an  action  shames, 

And  leads  our  streams  of  thought  to  purer  flow. 

But  while  we  speak,  the  moments  swiftly  bring 
Our  band,  here  joined,  to  that  remorseless  line 
Which  marks  our  separation  ; and  there  spring 
Heart-throbs  which  our  poor  muse  can  ill  define, 

And  then  what  comes  ? I would  I could  respond 
What  meets  one  in  that  untried  realm  beyond. 

Our  prophet’s  words  can  tell  our  woe  and  bliss 
Far  better  than  such  driveling  verse  as  this. 

Theirs  be  the  task,  and  dare  we  to  assume, 

The  darkness  of  our  parting  to  illume  ? 

The  thought  that  those  who  daily  with  us  here 
Have  mingled  much,  and  whom  we  hold  so  dear, 

Will  with  the  hope  their  earnest  faces  tell 
Bid  us  a God-speed  and  a sad  farewell. 


CHRONICLES. 


By  JAMES  R.  WILLARD,  Olivet,  Mich. 


Yon  have  listened  to  the  “ rills  of  oily  eloquence  ” as 
they  fell  in  golden  showers  from  the  lips  of  your  gifted 
orator,  and  the  musical  rhymes  of  your  poet  are  still  echo- 
ing through  this  relic  of  architectural  simplicity.  But  with 
these  silver  notes  still  floating  in  the  air  and  ringing  in 
your  ears,  I have  the  audacity,  and  shall  take  the  liberty, 
to  invite  your  uncritical  attention  to  a simple  narrative,  in 
which  the  principal  landmarks  of  our  college  life  are  re- 
corded. These  events  have  been  mainly  culled  from  mem- 
ory’s tablet,  and  though  this  article  of  mental  furniture 
has  ofttimes  proved  a “ fleeting  show  ” in  the  recitation- 
room,  it  is  hoped  that  your  chronicler  may  merit,  and  re- 
ceive, the  meed  of  having  uttered  “ words  of  truth  and  so- 
berness.” Life’s  shadows  have  occasionally  appeared  during 
the  last  four  years,  but  the  “ sweet  side  the  sun’s  upon” 
has  oftener  shed  its  genial  rays  upon  our  pathway,  and  if, 
through  inadvertence,  a few  of  those  pleasantries,  vulgarly 
termed  jokes,  have  crept  in  to  mar  the  sobriety  of  these 
pages,  I trust  a generous  audience  will  pardon  the  error. 
Moreover,  if  within  the  sound  of  my  voice  there  should 
chance  to  be  a fossilized  relic  of  puritanical  severity,  the 
stern  repose  of  whose  features  a smile  might  ruffle,  ! beg 
you  to  lay  aside  all  fear,  for,  though  a hearty  laugh  might 
indeed  be  a great  surprise  to  your  face,  it  has  ever  been 
considered  a harmless  experiment.  It  is,  perhaps,  impos- 
sible to  accurately  describe  a psene’s  emotions,  when,  for 
the  first  time,  he  finds  himself  friendless  and  houseless  in 
the  streets  of  Hanover.  As  he  winds  his  way  toward  that 
grand  embodiment  of  centralized  power,  the  Prex’s  study, 
he  has  a vague  suspicion  that  about  nine  tenths  of  the 
students  whom  he  encounters  are  occupying  their  leisure 
moments  in  watching  his  movements.  With  a firm  upper 


CHRONICLES. 


20 

lip,  trembling  knees,  and  nervous  dissection  of  his  hat-rim, 
he  presents  himself  before  the  individual  whom  Dart- 
mouth delights  to  honor.  Having  passed  the  fearful  or- 
deal, he  comes  forth  eagerly  clutching  that  magic  slip  of 
paper  which  is  to  introduce  him  to  other  members  of  the 
Faculty.  Examination  over,  and  matriculation  papers  safe- 
ly stowed  away  in  his  breast  pocket,  what  an  enormous 
weight  of  anxiety  has  been  removed  ! How  peacefully  he 
reposes  on  his  Alma  Mater’s  bosom,  and  how  confidingly 
he  imbibes  the  classic  draught  from  the  perennial  foun- 
tain. How  dream-like  every  thing  appears,  until  the  spell 
is  broken  by  the  shrill  war-whoop  of  some  half-civilized 
Sophomore,  whose  muscles  have  developed  at  his 
brain’s  expense.  Henceforth,  until  his  bark  is  moored  in 
the  haven  of  Sophomoric  security,  his  daily,  and  especial- 
ly his  nightly,  experience,  is  one  in  which  the  shoals 
and  quicksands  of  college  life  abound.  But  I must  pass 
from  “ glittering  generalities  ” to  lusterless  particulars. 

Maynard  is  said  to  have  been  the  first  member  of  the 
class  who  applied  for  admission.  This  event,  if  report 
can  be  relied  upon,  was  attended  by  ominous  vibrations  of 
the  official  head,  but  remembering  how  gloriously  insig- 
nificant beginnings  have  sometimes  terminated,  he  was 
allowed  to  enter  under  certain  conditions,  which  I should  be 
happy  to  specify,  did  not  time  forbid.  Brighter  days  were 
yet  to  come  however,  and  on  the  morning  of  Sept.  3, 1863, 
the  Freshmen  seats  in  Chapel  were  ornamented  by  a re- 
spectable supply  of  the  raw  material.  The  monotony  of 
the  Fall  term  was  relieved  by  the  usual  amount  of  atten- 
tion, which  the  Sophomores  gratuitously  bestowed  upon  the 
class.  It  has  never  been  definitely  ascertained  whether 
the  class  of  ’66  attended  a course  of  medical  lectures  dur- 
ing tfiis  term  or  not,  but  certain  it  is  that  they  manifested 
the  greatest  solicitude  for  the  preservation  of  our  health, 
voluntarily  undertaking  to  see  that  our  rooms  were  prop- 
erly ventilated.  About  this  time,  Palmer  and  Woodman 
exercised  their  sporting  proclivities  upon  some  unknown 
individuals  who  were  giving  practical  illustrations  of  that 
interesting  subject,  the  “ Flight  of  Projectiles.”  It  is  per- 
haps needless  to  remark  that  the  campaign  wTas  short  but 
decisive,  their  visitors  taking  French  leave,  and  in  the 
hurry  of  the  moment  forgetting  to  leave  their  cards. 
Spring  term  was  immortalized  by  Gage,  who  made  some 


CHRONICLES.  21 

startling  disclosures  respecting  Calypsonian  navigation,  in 
which  he  revealed  a somewhat  more  extensive  acquaint- 
ance with  human  nature  than  ancient  geography.  At  this 
period,  Greene  developed  an  appetite  that  would  compare 
favorably  with  the  Fat  Boy’s  of  Pickwickian  notoriety, 
thereby  incurring  the  eternal  hatred  of  boarding-house 
matrons.  Summer  term  opened  with  the  flowers  of  May, 
and  a quiet  season  seemed  in  store,  after  the  tempestuous 
voyages  which  the  class  had  made  in  company  with  that 
gay,  rollicking  blade,  the  tale  of  whose  misfortunes  has 
been  bequeathed  by  Homer  to  generations  of  Freshmen 
yet  unborn.  But  the  sky  soon  became  overcast,  and  fresh 
trouble  came  in  the  form  of  a “ cane  row,”  in  which  Lecky, 
the  exasperated  Fenian,  gained  considerable  renown  by 
attempting  to  wTrest  a cane  from  the  grasp  of  the  Professor 
who  now  graces  the  Senate  Chamber.  He  was  shorn  of 
his  strength,  however,  by  the  simple  utterance  of  the  words, 
“ let  go  of  that  you  little  rascal.”  McNiece,  too,  attracted 
no  little  attention  by  his  surprising  agility  ; but  when  the 
Professor,  who  was  acting  as  President  for  the  time,  gently 
seized  him  by  the  coat  collar  and  requested  the  honor  of 
his  acquaintance,  your  eloquent  orator  was  suddenly  be- 
reft of  his  usual  fluency  of  speech,  and  could  only  faintly 
articulate,  “I  have  a staff  somewhere  in  this  vicinity, 
which  demands  my  immediate  attention.”  He  was  then 
presented  to  several  members  of  the  Faculty,  but  as  all 
of  them  knew  him  perfectly,  but  could  not  recall  his  name, 
our  Professor  of  Geology  was  forced  to  admit  that  he  had 
at  last  found  a specimen  which  he  wras  unable  to  locate. 
The  fact  was  doubtless  recorded  in  the  College  Archives. 
Three  of  the  class,  who  covered  themselves  with  glory  in 
this  encounter,  were  kindly  permitted  by  ‘‘the  powers  that 
be”  to  spend  a few  weeks  in  the  country  for  the  purpose  of 
recruiting  their  exhausted  energies.  Woodman  demon- 
strated the  metaphysical  truth  that  all  of  the  senses  do 
not  waken  simultaneously,  when  he  attempted  to  extin- 
guish a match  that  had  been  dexterously  attached  to  his 
nose  while  he  was  enjoying  a nap.  Wallace  conceived  a 
dislike  for  this  individual  after  being  repeatedly  annoyed 
by  extemporized  experiments  in  acoustics  at  unseasonable 
hours.  The  class  was  greatly  increased  during  the  latter 
part  of  this  term  by  the  acquisition  of  a new  member  from 
Manchester,  who  successfully  passed  a severe  examination, 


CHRONICLES. 


22 

made  by  Garland,  but  was  inclined  to  indulge  in  certain 
inelegant  expressions,  when  he  learned  that  he  must  first 
go  through  a similar  course,  under  the  supervision  of  the 
Faculty,  before  he  could  be  admitted.  The  same  individ- 
ual, when  chairman  of  a class-meeting,  was  interrupted 
in  the  midst  of  his  inaugural  address  by  a general  stam- 
pede for  the  door,  as  the  last  tones  of  the  dinner  bell  died 
away — eloquence  being  at  a discount,  when  judged  by 
the  light  of  a cold  mutton-chop.  Shortly  after  this  event, 
Bartlett  and  Haywood  were  mistaken  for  pickpockets  in 
an  Albany  theater — an  error  in  Haywood’s  case  difficult  of 
explanation,  since  he  now  wears  the  same  innocent  and 
babe-like  expression  with  which  he  left  the  paternal  roof. 
Perhaps  the  principle  for  which  that  faithful  canine  mar- 
tyr suffered  was  involved. 

Summer  term  closed  with  the  usual  exercises  which  I 
need  not  mention,  as  they  differed  in  no  essential  particu- 
lars from  those  which  have  annually  occurred  for  nearly  a 
century.  The  beginning  of  Sophomore  year  was  signal- 
ized by  several  events,  not  the  least  of  which  was  the  ar- 
rival of  a specimen  brick  from  Haverhill,  which  has  given 
general  satisfaction,  though  it  came  very  near  being  reject- 
ed by  the  builders  on  account  of  its  unusual  hardness.  A 
mighty  Noyes  now  came  up  from  Georgetown,  but,  like 
all  mere  sound, he  has  never  been  considered  dangerous — 
his  remarks  being  principally  confined  to  Bowdoin  College 
and  “ the  girl  I left  behind  me.”  Wisconsin  added  her 
mite  in  the  person  of  the  immortal  Daneorth,  who  con- 
sented to  let  his  name  appear  in  the  catalogue,  only,  as  he 
said,  because  Dartmouth  graduates  were  held  in  high  es- 
teem at  German  Universities.  He  proved  a transient  visi- 
tor, however,  and  his  memory  lives  only  at  his  boarding- 
house, though  his  name  occasionally  appears  in  certain 
laundry  records.  A Hoosier  was  also  admitted  whose  ex- 
ploits would  fill  a small  volume.  It  is  supposed  that  he 
sometimes  indulged  in  Jits  of  abstraction , from  the  fact  that 
he  wTas]once  detected  in  a vain  attempt  to  reach  his  room 
by  creeping  under  the  gate.  During  this  term  the  class 
developed  considerable  musical  talent;  a glee  club  having 
been  formed,  it  was  found  that,  with  very  few  exceptions, 
all  were  independent  performers.  At  the  reception  given 
to  the  Freshmen  by  our  honored  President,  music  was 
kindly  furnished  by  the  above  mentioned  club,  for  which, 


CHRONICLES. 


23 

I regret  to  say,  we  have  never  received  any  sort  of  ac- 
knowledgment. Not  long  afterward  we  received  onr  first 
impression  of  Hanover  society  at  the  Sophomore  levee, — 
an  impression  which  has  been  gradually  deepening  in  the 
case  of  some,  while  the  general  boorishness  of  others 
would  seem  to  indicate  that  much  good  advice  has  been 
thrown  away.  The  closing  weeks  of  the  term  were  en- 
livened by  liberal  extracts  from  Isocrates.  It  is  difficult  to 
conceive  why  he  should  have  been  called  the  “ Old  Man 
Eloquent,”  if  the  renderings  in  the  class-room  did  him 
justice.  Spring  term  seems  to  have  been  for  the  class  a 
period  of  blissful  hibernation,  since  after  the  most  careful 
research  I have  been  unable  to  cull  from  the  mass  of  dry 
rubbish  any  thing  worth  noting,  if  I except  the  partially 
successful  attempt  of  Palmer  to  manufacture  kerosene 
oil.  This  compound,  which  for  a time  deceived  the  best- 
judges,  seemed  to  possess  all  the  essential  elements,  though 
it  proved  a signal  failure  when  tested  as  an  illuminating 
fluid.  Summer  term  opened  gloomily  enough.  The 
effort  to  turn  the  Chapel  into  a barber-shop  had  sorely 
grieved  the  authorities,  and  retributive  justice  decreed  that 
three  of  our  number  should  have  a few  months  for  medita- 
tion upon  the  fleeting  character  of  mundane  bliss,  and  the 
general  uncertainty  of  a College  course.  White  now  caught 
the  bounty-fever  and  enlisted.  It  was  a time  when  patriot- 
ism had  reached  an  alarming  hight,  and  as  our  heated 
imagination  pictured  the  deadly  conflict,  we  “cut”  recita- 
tion in  a mass,  and  escorted  our  brave  classmate  to  the 
depot,  where  we  remained  cheering  at  a blue  cap  until  the 
train  vanished.  This  so  excited  the  admiration  of  our 
Professor,  that  he  immediately  began  a collection  of  auto- 
graphs, kindly  excusing  the  class  from  the  performance  of 
all  duties  until  each  signature  had  been  properly  affixed  to 
a remarkable  literary  production,  which  would  have  thrown 
no  discredit  upon  that  wily  diplomat,  Napoleon’s  Prime 
Minister.  About  this  time  the  peaceful  repose  of  unsus- 
pecting Freshmen  was  disturbed  by  “circumstances  of  a 
very  aggravating  nature,  in  which  the  better  portion  of  the 
class  seemed  to  be  engaged,  while  even  Woodman  offered 
his  room  as  a place  of  refuge  for  the  conspirators.”  At 
this  period  Greene  first  began  the  use  of  those  stimulat- 
ing compounds  which  are  warranted  to  force  a luxuriant 
capillary  growth  from  a drum-head  within  thirty  days. 


24  CHRONICLES. 

The  astonishing  result  obtained  leaves  no  doubt  respecting 
the  efficacy  of  unguents.  Maynard  is  the  author  of  the 
following  delicate  inquiry,  “Lecky,  were  you  ever  in 
love?”  The  stunning  blow  which  succeeded,  indicated 
that  he  had  been  there,  but  found  the  atmosphere  rather 
cool.  Near  the  close  of  the  term  Brickett indulged  in 
frequent  fits  of  negro-minstrelsy,  and,  iij  consequence, 
became  a regular  attendant  upon  Faculty  meetings.  At 
one  of  these  social  gatherings,  a lengthy  discourse  upon 
the  general  impropriety  of  such  proceedings,  terminated 
with  this  brief  but  comprehensive  suggestion:  “In  short, 
Brickett,  this  buffoonery  must  cease.”  At  the  close  of 
this  year  Osgood  left  us  for  the  purpose  of  prosecuting  his 
law  studies.  Not  long  since  his  “shingle”  made  its  ap- 
appearance  in  the  city  of  Manchester,  where  he  is  now-en- 
joying matrimonial  felicity.  At  latest  accounts  the  firm 
were  about  to  introduce  a “well-spring  of  pleasure,” — 
said,  by  competent  judges,  to  be  superior  to  a perennial 
soda-fountain.  After  the  hard  riding  of  examination 
week, — three  consecutive  days  having  been  passed  in  the 
saddle,  not  to  mention  the  enormous  number  of  stadia 
which  our  jaded  troop  of  horse  was  compelled  to  traverse 
during  the  night-watches, — the  class  very  properly  ordered 
a supper,  the  rare  delicacies  of  which  even  now  awaken 
sweet  recollections.  Edgerly  was  nominally  the  orator  of 
the  occasion,  and  as  this  fair  ensample  of  modern  elo- 
quence “ opened  his  mouth  and  spake,”  we  were  ready  to 
exclaim  with  the  poet — 

“ Speech  is  the  golden  harvest  that  followeth  the  flowering  of  thought 

but  as  the  indications  of  a plentiful  harvest  were  not  very 
alarming,  it  is  probable  that  the  thought-flowers  were 
nipped  by  an  early  frost. 

With  the  beginning  of  Junior  year  several  new  faces 
appeared  in  the  class-room.  Thomas  drew  suspicion  upon 
himself  at  once  from  the  enormous  pile  of  recommenda- 
tions which  he  presented,  it  being  the  popular,  though 
sometimes  erroneous  belief,  that  a man’s  character  is 
doubtful  in  proportion  to  the  number  of  these  documents 
which  he  carries.  Wright  started  from  home  on  the 
same  train  with  Thomas,  but  was  detained  on  the  route 
through  the  carelessness  of  a baggage  master,  who  sent 
the  trunk  containing  his  clothing  in  the  wrong  direction. 


CHRONICLES. 


25 

I record  this  with  great  exactness,  since  it  is  the  only 
time  that  he'  was  ever  known  to  be  iri  real  distress.  The 
same  individual  realized  that  there  was  something  in  a 
name,  Shakspeare  to  the  contrary,  notwithstanding,  when 
he  replied  to  a young  lady,  who  was  addressing  words  of 
endearment  to  a pet  canary  which  rejoiced  in  the  sobriquet 
of  Amos.  A genuine  live  Hoosier  was  also  admitted 
who  attracted  considerable  attention.  His  first  term  in 
College  was  mainly  consumed  in  recounting  his  daring 
exploits  during  our  late  civil  conflict,  from  which  it  appears 
that  Gen.  Grant’s  laurels  hang  by  a very  slender  thread. 
The  anxious  expression  which  Sccasionally  clouds  his 
classic  brow  is  due  to  an  unfortunate  attachment  existing 
between  him  and  a certain  young  lady.  As  the  Captain 
has  firmly  declared  that  he  “ won’t  marry  any  but  a first 
class  woman,”  the  chances  are  that  our  classmate  will,  at 
no  future  day,  figure  quite  extensively  in  a breach  of 
promise  case. 

“ A horrid  Specter  now  rises  to  my  sight,” 

the  burden  of  whose  song  has  been  “ the  Commonwealth 
of  Massachusetts.”  I suppose  when  Hill  pronounced 
the  ordinances  of  God  superior  to  the  statutes  of  this 
State,  he  intended  the  remark  as  a bit  of  sarcasm  for 
Mann’s  consideration.  “Dr.  Roach”  now  “sported  his 
oak,”  and  commenced  the  practice  of  medicine  among 
us.  The  system  which  he  adopted  has  never  been  clearly 
ascertained,  since  some  of  his  theories  were  utterly  at 
variance  with  those  entertained  by  the  Medical  Faculty. 
In  two  particulars  at  least  he  seemed  to  be  in  harmony 
with  the  Allopathic  system ; by  invariably  giving  enor- 
mous doses  of  the  same  compound  for  all  diseases,  and  by 
preferring  to  practice  upon  the  sleeve  of  his  dressing 
gown  rather  than  swallow  his  own  medicine.  McMurphy, 
however,  thinks  that  “Roach”  is  n’t  a reliable  physician. 
I now  come  to  that  grand  epoch  in  our  academic  history 
which  introduced  a new  order  of  things  into  our  little 
college  world — I refer  to  the  arrival  of  Irwin,  ex-commis- 
sary sergeant  of  the  “ Hodunk  Guards.”  This  individual^ 
name  had  previously  appeared  in  the  catalogues  of  various 
institutions  of  learning,  while  his  extensive  acquaintance 
with  college  Faculties  renders  his  opinions  respecting 
educational  matters  worthy  of  confidence.  The  fact  that 


26  CHRONICLES. 

he  has  decided  to  receive  the  degree  of  A.  B.  from  the 
hand  of  Dartmouth  certainly  speaks  well  for  the  reputa- 
tion of  this  “ancient  seat  of  learning.”  For  the  present 
we  will  dismiss  our  worthy  Prophet,  trusting  that  he  may 
again  turn  up  in  the  course  of  events.  The  class  also 
varied  the  daily  monotony  by  taking  occasional  “ Ram- 
bles among  words.” 

The  fact  that  I have  no  very  distinct  reollection  of  the 
route  taken  or  general  features  of  the  region  through 
which  wTe  passed,  leads  me  to  suppose  that  the  scenery 
was  neither  romantic  or  inviting.  You  will  doubtless  be 
surprised  to  learn  that  we  now  took  up  the  study  of 
Logic,  though  you  will  perhaps  remember  that  we  met 
with  but  little  success  in  our  attempts  to  thread  its  mazy 
labyrinths — Mosher,  by  his  awkwardness,  getting  firmly 
impaled  on  both  horns  of  a dilemma,  while  Merrill, 
being  too  indolent  to  keep  up  with  the  class,  took  a 
sleeping-car  and  awoke  refreshed  at  our  journey’s  end. 
Rhetoric  next  claimed  our  attention,  which  you  will 
probably  recall  in  connection  with  certain  expressions 
made  in  the  attending  course  of  debates.  Mann,  while 
forging  thunderbolts  against  the  regulations  of  Girard 
College,  declared  that  “when  an  orphan  is  admitted  to 
this  institution,  he  is  snatched  at  once  from  the  control  of 
his  parents  and  subjected  to  the  soul-destroying  influence 
of  infidelity.”  Cate,  in  attempting  to  drift  down  the 
current  of  fame  in  company  with  Daniel  Webster,  fell 
overboard,  but  was  rescued  through  the  violent  efforts 
of  Prof.  Sanborn.  The  following  sentence  formed  the 
peroration  of  Lecky’s  speech  : “ My  opponent  can  not 
refute  these  statements,  because  he  is  notable.”  Wood- 
man, after  being  located  on  the  stage  and  having  his 
mouth  opened,  was  found  to  possess  such  an  unnatural 
flow  of  words  that  he  was  asked  to  reserve  the  remainder 
of  his  remarks  until  winter  vacation.  Henderson  com- 
mitted a slight  error  in  ascribing  a Scriptural  quotation  to 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Leeds.  “ Little  Joe,”  while  suffering  from 
a severe  attack  of  plurima  verba , attempted  to  mount  the 
J3ema,  but  failed  from  sheer  exhaustion.  About  the 
middle  of  this  term  Palmer  invited  Irwin  to  share  his 
room  with  him.  The  partnership  lasted  only  a few  weeks, 
however,  and  Commie  was  expelled  as  an  innovator — our 
eccentric  Prophet  advocating  a change  of  bed-linen  twice 


CHRONICLES. 


27 

each  term,  while  our  Marshal  refused  to  accede  to  the 
demand. 

Spring  term  of  Junior  year  dragged  heavily.  This  season 
is  generally  unpleasant,  but  in  Hanover  it  is  peculiarly 
so.  There  is  no  fixed  basis  upon  which  to  rest,  and 
real  estate  is  metamorphosed,  with  magical  rapidity,  into 
movable  property.  One  clings  to  his  native  soil  with  a 
pertinacity  truly  wonderful.  In  fact  it  is  scarcely  safe 
to  venture,  abroad  without  a pair  of  rubber  boots,  and  a 
tin  horn  on  which  to  sound  the  signal  of  distress,  in  case 
of  a sudden  decline  in  ready-made  clothing.  Skinner 
distinguished  himself  at  this  period  by  attempting  to 
mount  the  staircase  leading  to  his  room  with  a very  large 
load  of  bricks  in  his  hat.  After  several  vain  endeavors, 
at  the  end  of  which  he  invariably  found  himself  at  the 
foot  of  the  stairs,  he  rang  the  door  bell  and  asked  mine 
host  if  he  would  be  kind  enough  to  show  him  Mr.  Skin- 
ner’s room.  The  HEgis  declares  that  Junior  Exhibition 
was  a decided  success,  though  it  neglected  to  mention 
that  two  of  the  'principal  actors  appeared  the  following 
day  with  discolored  eyes  and  huge  nasal  organs.  Such 
is  the  power  of  eloquence. 

The  early  days  of  Summer  term  brought  us  a rumor 
that  Amos  had  fallen  in  love.  This  at  first  was  discredited, 
since  his  previous  character  had  been  above  reproach  ; 
but  as  time  rolled  on  and  fresh  proof  accumulated,  we 
were  reluctantly  forced  to  admit  that  even  the  best  of 
men  are  sometimes  led  astray.  The  modus  operandi 
which  governs  the  tender  flame  varies  vX7ith  the  general 
temperament  of  the  individual.  The  majority  of  persons 
who  indulge  in  matrimonial  speculations,  and  have  a 
natural  hankering  after  the  good  (?)  things  of  this  life, 
coolly  saunter  into  this  newly-revealed  world  with  eyes 
wide  open,  take  off  their  hats,  seat  themselves,  and  never 
take  the  final  leap  until  all  the  circumstances  have 
been  carefully  weighed.  But  our  Poet  fell  at  once  from 
ennui  to  perfect  bliss,  and,  from  the  extreme  length  .of 
his  convalescence,  I suppose  he  was  affected  by  this 
accident  very  much  like  that  unfortunate  Hibernian  who 
was  never  hurt  so  badly  in  so  short  a time.  During  this 
term  an  efficient  police  system  was  organized,  under  the 
immediate  control  of  Ketcham.  The  business,  however, 
proved  rather  lively  for  the  Captain.  After  an  exciting 


28  CHRONICLES. 

foot-race,  in  which  the  same  fugitive  from  justice  was 
thrice  captured  but  finally  escaped  into  Vermont,  the 
Captain  became  disgusted  with  the  whole  concern,  and 
refusing  to  make  a town  jail  of  himself  any  longer,  struck 
for  higher  wages.  Thomas  also  declined  to  serve  as  a 
special  detective  until  the  bloodhounds  were  properly 
trained  so  as  to  discriminate  between  prisoner  and  officer. 
This  mistake  illustrates  the  popular  fallacy  that  a man’s 
character  lies  in  his  face.  After  an  exciting  contest  the 
class  prize  for  beauty  was  awarded  to  McMurphy.  I 
record  this  with  great  care  since  an  aspiring  Chandler  is 
said  to  have  exhibited  a jack-knife  purporting  to  be  the 
gift  of  our  class.  Becky’s  mark  for  this  term  was  raised 
prodigously  by  a happy  selection  of  a theme  for  his 
chapel  speech.  Thomas,  in  addition  to  the  mass  of  in- 
formation which  he  had  already  acquired,  learned  that 
cutting  recitation  for  the  purpose  of  riding  out  with 
ladies  did  not  properly  come  under  the  head  of  “excusable 
absences.”  The  transition  from  Junior  ease  to  Senior 
dignity  was  successfully  accomplished  by  all,  including 
Irwin,  who  got  safely  over  on  his  second  attempt.  Among 
the  few  strange  events  that  interrupted  the  sameness  of 
this  term  I notice  the  prompt  arrival  of  Palmer.  This  is 
the  only  time  that  he  was  ever  knbwn  to  be  present  at 
the  beginning  of  a session,  and  is  about  as  difficult  of 
explanation  as  his  extreme  reticence  concerning  a wingless 
angel  that  watches  over  the  outskirts  of  St.  Johnsbury. 
Amos  now  suffered  another  relapse  of  that  “ invisible 
and  cureless”  malady,  coeur  d' affaire.  Though  he  still 
greets  his  friends  as  of  yore  with  a smiling  countenance, 
it  is  evident  that  his  heart  is  ill  at  ease.  Stray  sunbeams 
now  and  then  gleam  athwart  his  checkered  course,  and 
it  must  have  been  a moment  of  e'cstatic  bliss  when  he 
beheld  the  fading  flower  and  bursting  bud  of  his  affection 
seeking  consolation  from  the  same  hymn  book.  Palmer, 
finding  nothing  else  to  occupy  his  leisure  moments, 
embarked  in  the  tobacco  business,  charging  exorbitant 
prices  for  a*  very  poor  quality  of  the  weed.  I am  credi- 
bly informed  that  Thomas  paid  him  fifty  dollars  for  four 
cigars  and  promised  to  hand  him  the  balance  in  the 
morning.  Josh  Billings  has  very  happily  delineated  our 
Marshal’s  character : “ I never  bet  any  stamps  on  the 

man  who  is  always  telling  what  he  would  have  did  if  he 


CHRONICLES. 


29 

had  been  thare.  I have  noticed  that  this  kind  never  git 
thare.”  At  this  period  Patterson  arrived  from  Miami 
University,  bearing  a letter  from  its  distinguished  head, 
in  which  his  departure  was  affirmed  to  be  a “ serious  loss 
to  the  Institution.”  This  example  does  not  properly 
come  under  the  head  of  Loss  and  Gain — it  being  all  loss 
and  no  gain.  During  winter  vacation  Irwin,  in  company 
with  the  “ undersigned,”  visited  Poughkeepsie,  where 
your  Prophet  became  exceedingly  popular  as  a ballad 
singer.  From  remarks  which  have  fallen  from  his  lips, 
I am  inclined  to  think  that  he  objects  to  the  presence  of 
colored  ladies  at  masquerade-balls,  though  he  admits  that 
they  dance  with  surpassing  grace.  As  time  seems  to  be 
hanging  rather  heavily  upon  his  hands  at  present,  I will 
propose  a question  which  involves  a knowledge  of  polite 
literature  upon  which  he  is  so  well  posted  : When  one 
is  acting  as  a lady’s  escort,  when  and  where  should  the 
old  German  form  of  salutation  be  used  ? The  closest 
corner  that  your  Chronicler  ever  visited  was  at  Yassar 
College,  when  he  attempted  to  explain  some  of  Quilp’s 
aberrations  on  the  supposition  that  they  were  the  “ eccen- 
tricities of  genius.”  The  cross-examination  quite  used 
him  up.  Commie  now  entered  upon  the  practice  of  heavy 
gymnastics,  but  over-exertion  in  the  use  of  dumb  bells , and 
stronger  attractions  elsewhere,  shortened  his  visit,  greatly 
to  my  regret.  The  beginning  of  Spring  term  witnessed 
the  return  of  Prescott,  the  Beau  Brummel  of  the  class, 
fresh  from  the  scene  of  his  conquests.  One  could  readily 
imagine  some  tearful  Juliet  exclaiming, 

“ Take  him  and  cut  him  out  in  little  stars, 

And  he  will  make  the  face  of  heaven  so  fine 
That  all  the  world  will  be  in  love  with  night.” 

I now  come  to  that  “ idle  Laud”  who  at  this  time  took 
charge  of  a small  but  promising  female  seminary,  estab- 
lished on  an  entirely  new  plan — free  tuition  and  great 
unity  among  the  classes  being  among  the  more  prominent 
features.  I have  every  reason  to  suppose  that  the  most 
popular,  though,  with  the  exception  of  Merrill,  the 
laziest  man  in  college,  brought  to  his  task  ( ?)  a genial 
heart  and  very  winning  manners.  The  “Rose  of  Sharon,” 
(Yt.)  in  reply  to  a question  from  our  Professor  of  Intel- 
lectual Philosophy,  stated  that  if  two  barbarians,  totally 


CHRONICLES. 


30 

unacquainted  with  language,  should  meet,  they  would 
experience  considerable  difficulty  in  carrying  on  a con- 
versation ; while  Brickett,  in  elucidating  the  same  idea, 
thought  that  they  would  be  apt  to  call  each  other  names. 
Maynard  was  agreeably  surprised  to  learn  that  he  held 
the  same  opinion  with  Hamilton,  which  is  certainly  an 
argument  in  favor  of  the  theory  that  great  minds  run  in 
the  same  channel.  Haywood,  with  a metaphysical  acu- 
men that  would  have  inspired  the  ashes  of  Sir  William, 
promulgated  the  “cosmopolitan”  faculty.  The  general 
obscurity  of  Palmer’s  replies  indicates  that  he  has  adopted 
Talleyrand’s  definition  of  language.  Atwood  has  never 
been  accused  of  prolixity  in  the  class-room,  though  he 
narrates  with  great  fluency  the  gallant  feats  which  Leach’s 
dog  performed  at  Fort  Union.  Whipple,  class  delegate 
to  the  fire  which  occurred  on  the  first  of  last  April, 
thought  it  must  be  a “sell,”  when  he  reached  the  top  of 
Norwich  hill.  Shortly  after  the  commencement  of  Sum- 
mer term,  Palmer  appeared  with  his  new  hat , which  he 
informed  us  was  of  the  latest  style.  As  he  had  just 
returned  from  the  “Hub,”  and  no  one  had  ever  seen  one 
like  it  before,  we  were,  Polus-like,  unable  to  refute  the 
assertion.  Wright  now  conceived  a great  partiality  for 
metaphysical  studies,  especially  the  Law  of  Association, 
which  so  delighted  him  that  he  pursued  it  far  into  the 
night.  Given,  a lighted  hall,  with  door  ajar,  and  a crowd 
of  observant  Freshmen  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street, 
to  find  out  the  exact  duration  of  a good-night  kiss.  For 
the  benefit  of  those  who  have  never  perused  the  enchant- 
ing pages  of  Chase’s  Algebra,  I would  suggest  that  this 
example  might  be  solved  by  the  rule  for  subtraction , as 
defined  by  Hill.  If  the  coat  does  not  fit,  my  dear  sir, 
do  n’t  be  so  foolish  as  to  put  it  on.  During  Senior  vacation 
the  Nine  visited  Amherst, — Ketcham  having  obtained 
permission  from  Wallace  to  be  absent  a few  days.  The 
game  of  base-ball  proved  so  exciting  to  Mosher  that  he 
made  the  principal  part  of  one  night  hideous  by  shouting 
ball  and  extemporizing  musical  entertainments.  Mather 
illustrated  the  fate  of  that  unfortunate  camel  which  lost 
its  life  through  excessive  capillary  treatment.  Irwin, 
while  reflecting  upon  the  total  depravity  of  humanity, 
button-holed  Palmer,  and  gave  him  a free  lecture  on 
morality,  enforcing  his  remarks  by  gently  tapping  his 


CHRONICLES. 


31 

audience  under  the  eye,  after  which  we  listened  to  a 
poetical  narration  of  famil}7  matters,  from  which  I learned 
that  his  father  was  a shepherd,  and  used  to  feed  his  flocks 
on  the  Grampian  Hills.  Ladd  enjoyed  the  concert  very 
much,  but  could  n’t  keep  track  of  the  “ shunes.”  Irwin 
and  Whipple  incurred  the  displeasure  of  the  Reed  Hall 
fraternity  by  rousing  them  some  time  after  midnight  with 
a demand  for  the  “III  Vol.  of  Victor  Cousin’s  Philoso- 
phy of  History.”  Merrill  protested  that  there  was  no 
such  work  extant,  and  was  gratified  to  learn  that  his 
visitors  had  been  harboring  a similar  idea.  Rot  content 
with  the  information  which  they  had  gained,  our  two 
heroes  cruelly  tied  in  with  a fish-line  the  individual  who 
believes  that  “ all  quadrupeds  are  alike,”  knowing  that 
he  would  be  too  lazy  to  get  out  himself.  Bartlett  still 
looks  remarkably  well  for  a man  whose  time  and  attention 
has  been  engrossed  by  the  care  of  “ half  a million.”  It 
must  be  admitted  that  he  has  shown  great  business  tact, 
though  he  tacked  rather  too  many  times  when  he  started 
for  the  Episcopal  Church  and  found  himself  at  Reed  Hall. 
He  was  evidently  “under  the  influence  of  some  unnatural 
excitement.”  The  only  objection  I can  find  against 
this  individual,  is,  that  his  heart  is  covered  with  photo- 
graphic paper  and  takes  an  impression  of  every  pretty 
face  that  he  chances  to  meet.  Every  thing,  I suppose, 
must  have  an  end,  though  your  Chronicles  came  very  near 
proving  an  exception  to  the  rule.  If  the  record  has  bored 
you,  I can  truthfully  say  that  its  compilation  has  not  been 
a labor  of  love  with  me.  I yield  the  bema  with  .great 
pleasure  to  our  Prophet,  who  will  shortly  preside  over  the 
grand  lottery  of  our  destinies,  in  which  I have  no  reason 
to  suppose  I shall  draw  a blank. 

My  Classmates  : Our  College  course  has  been  one  of 
fraternal  harmony,  and  the  links  in  the  golden  chain  of 
friendship  are  still  unbroken.  May  the  sympathetic  chord 
which  has  united  us  in  one  brotherhood  vibrate  with  the 
latest  swing  of  life’s  pendulum  ! 


PROPHECIES. 


By  JOHN  N.  IRWIN,  Keokuk,  Iowa. 


“ All  is  here. 

The  elements  of  the  world  are  at  my  feet, 

Above  me  and  about  me  ; now  would  I 
Be  and  do  somewhat  beside  that  I am. 

Canst  thou  not  give  me  some  ethereal  slave, 

Of  the  pure  essence  of  an  element — 

Such  as  my  bondless  brain  hath  oft  times  drawn 
In  the  divine  insanity  of  dreams — 

To  stand  before  me  and  obey  me,  spirit  ? 

Call  out,  and  see  if  aught  arise  to  thee. 

Green  dewy  earth,  who  standest  at  my  feet, 

Singing  and  pouring  sunshine  on  thy  head, 
t As  naiad  native  water,  speak  to  me  ! 

I am  thy  sun,  canst  thou  not  now,  as  oncd, 

Bring  forth  some  being  dearer,  liker  to  thee 
Than  is  my  race, — Titan  or  tiny  fay, 

Stream-nymph  or  wood-nymph  ? 

* * * * Call  elsewhere,  old  earth  is  hard 
Of  hearing,  m3,y  be. 

I beseech  thee,  sea ! 

Tossing  thy  wavy  locks  in  sparkling  play, 

Like  to  a child  awakening  with  the  light 
To  laughter.  Canst  thou  not  disgulph  for  me, 

Of  all  thy  sea-gods  one,  or  sea-maids  ? 

None. 

I half  despair.  Fire  ! that  art  slumbering  there, 

Like  some  stern  warrior  in  his  rocky  fort, 

Hast  none  at  hand  to  do  my  bidding  ? Come ! 

Breathe  out  a spirit  for  me. 

* * * * Air ! and  thou,  wind, 

Monarch  of  all  the  elements  ! hast  thou 
No  soft  seolian  sylph,  with  sightless  wing, 

To  spare  a mortal  for  an  hour  ? 

Peace,  peace. 

Are  all 

Mine  invocations  fruitless,  then  ? 

They  are.” 

“ And  for  this  reason,  since  1854,  when  Class-day  was  in- 
augurated in  Dartmouth  College,  each  successive  prophet 
has  conjured  up  a spirit,  or  demon,  or  angel,  or  dream, 


PROPHECIES. 


33 

to  assist  him  in  his  prophecies.  In  these  endless  tasks 
my  ghosts,  good  and  bad,  declare  themselves  averse  to 
participating  longer,  especially  as  they  have  been  misused 
by  being  compelled  to  perform  all  the  work,  while  the 
prophets  get  all  the  honor.  I am  sorry  for  you,  Sir;  but 
will  say  frankly  that  I will  not  permit  my  ghosts  longer 
to  furnish  brains  for  Dartmouth  College.” 

With  this  refusal  to  allow  any  of  his  servants  to  enlist 
under  my  prophetic  banner,  I turn  despondingly  away, 
and  am  tempted,  by  the  awful  prospect  of  failure  before 
me,  to  apply  to  Macbeth’s  witches  for  their  recipe. 

“ Eye  of  newt  and  toe  of  frog,  wool  of  bat  and  tongue  of  dog, 

Adder’s  fork  and  blind  worm’s  sting,  lizard’s  leg  and  owlet’s  wing, 

For  a charm  of  powerful  trouble,  like  a hell-broth  boil  and  bubble, 
Cool  it  with  a baboon’s  blood,  then  the  charm  is  firm  and  good.” 

But  as  I must  use  the  material  offered  me  by  the  class 
in  itself,  I am  glad  to  say  that,  with  respect  to  ’67,  I am 
unable  to  obtain  the  ingredients  necessary  for  the  com- 
plete working  of  the  charm.  For  in  the  class,  my  class, 
which  I have  the  honor  to  represent  for  the  ensuing  fifteen 
minutes,  there  are  neither  newts,  nor  frogs,  nor  dogs,  nor 
lizards,  nor  baboons,  nor  adders.  We  have  no  blind 
worms  though,  as  we  are  all  w7orms;  according  to  scrip- 
ture, we  have  those  who  can  only  44  see  through  a glass 
darkly.”  Having  no  Turk’s  or  Tartar’s  lip,  yet  we  possess 
an  Oriental  Hindoo,  who  may  also  be  called  a very  good 
hat  (vide  base  ball  annals),  but  who  has  very  little  lip , 
though  considerable  cheek.  Neither  have  we  an  owi, 
though  a very  fair  substitute  in  the  Spectre , w7hom  I would 
gladly  have  employed  to  assist  me  in  the  compilation  of 
this  weird  peering  into  the  future,  had  not  his  time  been 
occupied  by  the  preparation  of  his  Fourth  of  July  oration, 
and  my  utter  inability  to  keep  my  fingers  for  any  length 
of  time  upon  his  flitting  form. 

Pondering  well  all  these  things,  my  classmates,  I find 
that  I am  forced  to  cut  a new  path  to  greatness,  and  can 
not  follow,  owing  to  lack  of  extraneous  help,  the  well 
beaten  path  of  my  more  fortunate  predecessors.  I say 
boldly,  then,  that  my  inspiration  is  given  me  by  you ; that 
you  elected  me  to  be  inspired,  and  that  all  my  powers  of 
divination  date  their  origin  from  Saturday,  the  13th  of 
April  last.  Therefore,  all  my  faults  are  chargeable, 
through  the  medium  of  your  Prophet,  to  yourselves  alone, 


3 


PROPHECIES. 


34 

for  with  old  Juvenal,  the  delight  of  junior  year,  I can 
say,  astronomy  and  moonlight  promenades  to  the  con- 
trary, “ motus  astrorum  ignoro  : funus  promittere  patris  nec 
volo , nec  possum : ranarum  viscera  nunquam  Inspexi.”  My 
motto  shall  be,  “hew  to  the  line,  let  the  chips  fall 
where  they  will.”  Should  any  of  these  nomadic  splinters 
happen,  unmeant  by  your  seer,  to  strike  hard  just  where 
you  are  accidentally  uncovered  by  the  armor  of  innocence, 
I can  but  cry  “forgive  me,  I never  will  do  so  again.” 
But  my  advice  to  you  is  the  same  as  Willard’s  to  the 
enraged  Johnnie  Roach,  when  in  quest  of  his  hat:  “Be 
docile,  Johnnie,  be  docile,  you  will  live  much  longer.” 
It  is  true  there  is  a well,  a fount  whence  might  be  drawn 
the  power  to  foresee  and  foretell ; a vapor  which,  like  that 
of  the  Scandinavian  bodes,  will  mount  to  the  brain  and 
produce  illusions.  But  this  kind  of  inspiration  is  already 
too  common  among  us;  it  is  generally  concealed  in  black 
bottles,  called  our  “ long-necked  friends,”  and  is  always 
open  to  conviction  from  a cork  screw.  Slightly  altering 
Shakspeare,  let  us  say,  “ throw  such  physic  to  the 
Juniors,  we  ’ll  none  of  it.”  ’Tis  a fact,  too,  that  we  might 
have  some  of  Lijah’s  pop  beer,  which  the  selectmen,  I 
believe,  call  a stimulant ; with  all  due  deference  to  the 
wisdom  and  taste  of  the  aforementioned  rulers  and  mag- 
nates, justices  of  the  peace  et  cetera , we  would  greatly  pre- 
fer water  as  being  the  more  strong,  more  stimulating, 
more  invigorating,  of  the  two  beverages. 

* As,  however,  these  prophecies  must  be  written,  and  I 
have  been  deputed  to  do  it,  I will  only  say  that  I shall 
make  use  of  imagination,  so  far  as  in  me  lies,  (no  emphasis 
on  the  last  word)  nor  shall  I say  “ give  me  an  ounce  of 
civet,  good  apothecary,  to  sweeten  my  imagination,”  for 
the  substitute  for  civet  sold  by  our  apothecary  is,  I am 
told,  most  execrable  rye  whiskey,  which,  of  course,  would 
never  do  for  your  seer.  It  may  be  said  here,  en  parenthese , 
that  our  worthy  chronicler  does  not  use  civet.  This  is 
inserted  merely  for  the  purpose  of  warding  such  an  injur- 
ious suspicion  from  so  excellent  a man  and  brother. 

This  rambling  discourse  will,  I hope,  bear  to  you  its 
own  excuse,  as  I fear  to  approach  my  patients — my  sub- 
jects, as  the  parlance  of  the  dissecting-room  goes,  directly. 

From  my  position  here  I can  plainly  see,  and  I call  no 
“ spirit  from  the  vasty  deep  ” to  help  me,  the  lowering 


PROPHECIES. 


35 

brow  of  Ketcham,  oar  youngest  class-babe,  who  is  vainly 
trying  to  remind  me  of  his  threatened  flogging  if  I predict 
to  him  a severe  future,  even  though  I augur  from  his  infan- 
tile present.  Be  easy,  my  captain,  your  prophet  can  not 
be  “ coughed”  by  any  remark  that  “ this  is  a fool  statement 
and  you  know  it.”  Bartlett’s  face  looks  to  me  appealingly, 
as  if  reminding  me  of  my  ingratitude  in  forgetting  those 
invitations  to  ice  cream  and,  I came  almost  saying,  wine 
punches.  Put  not  your  trust  in  princes  or  prophets,  Bart., 
we  are  only  men  after  all,  only  mortals  despite  our  pre-  • 
rogatives.  And,  too,  I can  see  Daddie  Willard,  always 
preserving  the  dignity  of  a Judge,  yet  fearful  of  the  well 
merited  vengeance  which,  as  a dim  shadow,  is  wheeling 
and  circling  round  his  head  like  the  mist  on  Mount 
Ascutney ; and  well  may  he  set  his  teeth  and  prepare  for 
the  coming  storm.  Visions  of  Poughkeepsie  rise  be- 
fore me,  and  though  my  feeling  of  friendship  for  my 
future  law  partner  holds  me  back  to  a certain  extent,  so 
that  I tell  not  all  I knowT,  yet,  as  I am  now  engaged  in  the 
cause  of  humanity  and  right,  I must  be  impartial,  and 
shall  permit  no  personal  feelings  to  sway  me  from  the 
path  of  rectitude,  and  undeviating  truth,  but  shall  “lay  on 
and  spare  not,”  especially  upon  the  broad  shoulders  and 
broader  jokes  of  our  “jumping  jack,”  Johnnie  Roach — 
our  Grand  Marshal  of  the  imposing  personal  appearance. 

It  may  be  well  to  state  here,  for  the  information  of  those 
to  whom  my  name  and  calling  are  unknown,  that  my 
business  is  that  of  a Prophet,  and  that  I am  nameless 
here  for  evermore,  since  the  chronicler,  I mean  the  fellow 
with  the  mutton-chop  whiskers,  who  has  just  sat  down, 
has  finished  his  imaginative  stories,  equaled  no  where  in 
literature  except  by  Baron  Munchausen  and  the  Veracious 
Gulliver.  My  business  is  also  to  say  something  funny 
about  thirty- eight  (38)  men,  at  which  you  are  all  bound, 
by  sacred  custom  and  a regulation  of  the  faculty,  to  laugh 
heartily,  no  matter  whether  you  see  the  point  of  the  jokes 
or  not.  To  save  trouble  on  your  part,  I now  assure  you 
that  there  is  “ exceeding  much  wit  ” in  every  sentence 
of  my  discourse,  and  you  can  not,  therefore,  possibly  laugh 
amiss.  I may  also  say,  and  violate  no  confidence,  betray 
no  trust,  that  each  and  every  member  of  the  class,  from 
Charles  Francis  Atwood  to  Amos  Willets  Wright,  has 
given  me  full  permission  to  use  his  name  as  often  as 


\ 

36  PROPHECIES. 

I thought  best,  and  have  all  besought  me,  with  tears  in 
their  eyes,  to  give  them  as  much  prominence  in  these 
mystic  pages  as  was  compatible  with  their  public  and 
private  weal ; especially  have  our  Marshal,  with  the  ductile 
muscle  and  agile  body,  whom  you  see  seated  here  in  all 
the  “ glorious  pomp  aud  circumstance  ” of  his  high  office, 
trying  hard  to  look  unconscious,  and  Hill,  our  cloud- 
capped  granite  Hill  (we  call  him  granite  on  account  of 
his  hardness),  and  Ketch  am,  our  ex-police  officer;  Bartlett 
• too,  must  not  be  forgotten  ; he  also  pines  for  the  immo- 
rality (I  mean  immortality)  of  my  deathless  pages.  Do  not 
despair,  Bart.  The  “ light  is  lamped”  which  shall  bear 
you  down  to  your  posterity,  if  you  have  any,  with  the  fresh 
bloom  of  innocence  still  lingering  on  thy  glowing  cheeks. 
King,  in  those  dul-cet  tones  with  which  we  are  familiar, 
prays  me  “ not  to  let  him  die,  and  like  a dull  worm,  to  rot, 
&c.”  I won’t  dear  pater  rex.  Be  assured  that  your  mem- 
ory is  ever  green  to  me,  and  that  I will  give  it  a plot  on 
which  to  grow\  McNeice,  the  orator  of  the  day,  has  so 
hired  me  (shall  I confess  the  venal  story),  that  I am  bound, 
in  honor,  to  put  his  name  here,  surrounded  by  all  that 
shall  render  it  imperishable.  Why  ! Mac,  “I  would  not  do 
without  thee  for  all  this  world  contains.”  And  Willard 
appealeth  beseechingly,  in  voice  so  tender  that  ’t  would 
woo  the  flinty-hearted  syrens  from  their  rocky  home  on 
the  deathly  sea  shore,  or  beget  him  sympathy  in  Yassar 
Female  College  even,  to  give  him  a place  in  at  least  one 
line.  The  entire  class  has  asked  this  favor,  and  these  ^ 
names  are  mentioned  merely  because  first  occurring  to 
memory. 

The  question  now  troubles  me  as  to  what  peculiar  posi- 
tion I can  take  so  as  to  most  readily  divine  the  future  lives, 
or  incidents  in  the  lives,  of  my  classmates  here  assembled  ; 
for  all  of  you,  that  is, — the  audience,  are  to  believe  that 
these  prophecies  are  ex  tempore , or,  to  translate  for  Palmer’s 
benefit,  who  unfortunately  was  absent  when  we  studied 
Latin,  these  prophecies  are  supposed  to  be  conceived  and 
delivered  without  any  aforethought  or  previous  consider- 
ation, which  supposition  is,  I may  say,  utterly  without 
foundation.  Thinking  the  matter  all  over  then,  noticing 
its  bearings  on  every  side,  putting  the  pro’s  here  and 
the  con’s  there,  and  striking  a balance  between  them,  I 
have  decided  to  turn  the  little  study  in  Keed  Hall  into  a 


PROPHECIES. 


37 

Prophet  Shop,  and  to  manufacture  you  such  futures  as 
shall  suit  my  fleeting  fancy.  Bear  in  mind,  however, 
that  I shall  not  be  arbitrarily  confined  to  one  spot,  but 
shall  roam  over  space,  time  and  action,  as  free  as  air,  a 
regular  Asmodeus. 

It  is  to  be  hoped,  my  classmates,  that  none  of  you  will 
take  offense  at  the  positions  in  which  it  is  my  painful 
duty  to  place  you,  for  though,  for  a time,  I am  gifted  with 
second  sight,  yet  my  ability  in  that  line  is  not  infallible, 
and  I probably  shall  err  sometimes — on  purpose.  I 
shall  try  to  give  you  all  as  pleasant  and  respectable  futures 
as  possible,  but  you  must  not  blame  your  own  blind  in- 
strument if  the  respectability  does  not  always  attend  your 
allotted  portions  of  life.  It  rests  wholly  with  yourselves 
how  good  or  how  bad  you  may  be.  Judging  from  the 
present,  your  Seer  would  say  that,  in  the  time  to  come, 
you  will,  every  one,  be  eminently  respectable  in  your 
peculiar  lines,  whatever  they  may  be. 

Sitting  pensively  in  the  aforesaid  room,  then,  before  me 
pass,  in  single  file,  the  members  of  the  class.  I am  behold- 
ing you  now  in  A.  d.  1877.  First  upon  the  scene  appears 
Torn  Lecky,  arrayed  in  gorgeous  gold  and  green,  resplen- 
dent in  a suit  of  clothes  marked  with  the  insignia  of 
Brigadier  General  of  the  Irish  Republic,  and  holding  in 
one  hand  a banner,  with  the  British  Lion  sprawling  on 
the  ground,  with  a shamrock  branch  for  a tail,  and  a harp 
in  his  fore  paws,  upon  which  he  plays  alternately  “ Erin 
go  bragh”  and  “Wearing  of  the  green.”  In  the  other 
hand  Tom  carries  a parchment  on  which  I can  read,  near 
sighted  as  I am,  his  commission  as  Professor  of  Edwards 
on  the  Will  in  the  Fenian  College,  Cork;  on  it  also  are 
the  characteristic  mottoes  “ but,  yet,  notwithstanding, 
nevertheless,  if  it  isn’t  one  it’s  t’other,  or  both,  or 
neither.”  Close  behind  Tom  comes  a fat,  greasy  little 
ghost,  shrieking  (as  Hook  did  in  revolutionary  times, 
beef,  beef,  beef)  doughnuts,  doughnuts,  doughnuts.  In- 
quiring the  cause  of  his  anguish  he  tells  me  that  he 
furnished  doughnuts  for  the  subsistence  of  the  Fenians, 
and  “ that ’s  where  they  got  their  quartermaster  stores,” 
and  that  he  had  been  paid  in  Fenian  bonds,  worth 
nothing  on  the  dollar.  Leading  me  to  his  grave,  I saw 
a mound  with  a huge  doughnut,  six  feet  high,  for  a head 
stone,  on  which  was  lettered  this  legend : “ Here  lies 


PROPHECIES. 


38 

Henry  Clay  Henderson.  Good  for  117  doughnuts,  but 
rashly  trying  the  118th  he  was  choked  to  death.  From 
doughnuts  he  sprang — to  doughnuts  faithful  in  death,  he 
return eth.”  “ Farina  nuces  jucundis-simum  illi  fuit” — it  was 
doughnuts  to  him.  Abram  Brown,  after  making  a pil- 
grimage to  Canterbury,  turned  sailor,  and  singing  “ his 
song”  went  over  the  “ Herring  pond.”  From  all  accounts 
it  is  to  be  feared  that  “ he  was  lost — he  was  drownded 
in  the  sea.”  I think  he  is  now  a mermaid,  as  his  sex 
was  never  accurately  known  in  College,  and  is  sitting 
on  a coral  bed  in  the  depths  of  the  “ sounding  sea” 
combing  his  lank  hair  with  a clam  shell.  Abe  will  make 
a great  sensation  wherever  she  goes.  Cate,  our  Cate,  is 
in  the  Epsom  salts  business,  much  to  Roach’s,  our  Grand 
Marshal’s,  discomfiture,  who  wished  to  create  a monopoly 
in  the  pill  line.  The  superior  quality  of  Cate’s  medicine, 
however,  combined  with  McMurphy’s  representations,  have 
driven  Johnnie’s  pills  out  of  the  market.  We  overheard 
a dispute  between  two  young  ladies  lately — one  saying 
that  Cate  did,  and  the  other  that  Cate  did  n’t.  What  it 
was  all  about  I was  unable  to  learn,  but  from  what  is 
known  of  Cate  I would  say  that  he  did  no  such  thing, 
and  even  if  he  did  ’twas  all  right.  Cotton  Mather,  for- 
getting the  purity  of  his  descent  from  the  strictest  of 
strict  puritans,  is  supporting  his  forty-two  children,  all 
girls  but  one,  by  playing  first  old  woman  in  a Cleve- 
land Theater.  He  is  sometimes  debarred  from  acting  by 
the  rheumatism,  but  when  he  does  perform  he  is  the 
delight  of  all  play-goers  from  the  naturalness  of  his 
representation.  Goodhue  and  Reed  have  formed  a part- 
nership and  together  make  a very  good  head  of  a Mormon 
family.  Though  they  have  thus  fallen  from  grace,  yet  it 
will  gratify  you  to  know  that  they  are  not  utterly  lost — 
as  they  still  vote  the  good,  sound,  save-the-country,  grand 
old  Democratic  ticket.  Joe  Edgerly  is  High  Cockalorum 
of  the  Masons,  Chief  Cook  of  the  Odd  Fellows,  but  has 
been  expelled  from  the  Good  Templars  on  account  of  the 
— dyspepsia.  He  is  agent  for  every  Insurance  Company 
on  the  Globe,  and  insures  against  all  kinds  of  fire  but  one — 
brimstone  rendering  null  a policy.  Joe  stands  a very 
good  chance  for  the  governor-ship  of  JSTew-Hampshire. 
He  runs  every  year  for  the  nomination,  just  to  keep  his 
hand  in  ; and,  as  he  is  fast  growing  wealthy  from  the 


PROPHECIES. 


39 

! spoils,  will  soon  be  able  to  buy  up  the  regular  and 
| requisite  majority,  and  so  will  follow  in  the  footsteps  of 
his  $1000  per  annum  predecessors. 

It  is  now  twelve  at  night — 

“ Suddenly  I hear  a tapping, 

As  of  some  one  gently  rapping, 

Rapping  at  my  chamber  door,” 

opening  which  in  flits  the  Spectre.  As  we  chat  I learn 
his  history,  since  leaving  college.  Condensed,  it  appears 
that  he  has  been  missionary  to  the  wild  Vermonters,  law- 
yer, tin-peddler  and  bar-keeper.  It  has  been,  however,  he 
says,  his  delight  to  visit  old  Dartmouth  once  a year,  and 
give  a peanut  drunk — thus  kindling  anew  his  old  affec- 
tions. After  remaining  eight  hours  and  a half,  Charles  H. 
Mann,  seeing  symptoms  of  retiring  on  my  part,  asks  if 
Wright  still  rooms  with  me.  On  my  replying  in  the 
affirmative,  he  says  he  is  sony,  as  he  had  expected  to  stay 
all  night,  and  adds  that  he  supposed  I wouldn’t  object  to 
sleep  three  in  a bed.  For  an  answer  I sent  him  over  to 
sleep  with  Hill,  and  they  make  the  “long  and  short”  of  the 
Spectre’s  history.  George  Abijah  Mosher  followed  for  a 
time  the  vocation  of  water-man,  but  failing  to  make  a 
living,  became  a Vermont  lawyer  and  finally  starved  to 
death,  as  no  boarding-house  in  the  State  would  admit  him 
to  the  table  after  a single  exhibition  of  his  terrible  prow- 
ess with  knife  and  fork.  It  is  supposed  that  his  death  was 
accelerated  by  a cold  caught  while  lying  on  the  damp 
ground,  singing  “ music  in  the  air.”  The  ruling  passion 
was  strong  in  death,  and  poor  Mosher  died  with  the  idea 
that  the  king  of  terrors  was  getting  up  something  new  on 
purpose  to  “grind”  him.  On  his  tomb  is  engraved 
the  mournful  but  pregnant  sentence  vivebat  edere . 
Mulberry  succeeded  at  last  in  finding  ball.  Little  Sam 
Prescott,  even  after  graduating,  could  not  abstain  from 
his  favorite  vice  of  pledgingFreshmen.  While  working  his 
jaws  at  this  delectable  employment,  he  was  seized  with 
lock-jaw  and  has  never  been  able  to  shut  his  mouth  since. 
The  mothers  in  his  neighborhood  use  him  to  frighten 
their  talkative  children,  pointing  him  out  as  a fearful 
example  to  prove  the  old  adage  that  “little  boys  should  be 
seen  but  not  heard.”  Sanborn  is  preaching  in  Coos 
County,  and  is  a very  acceptable  pastor,  never  failing  to 
attend  a dinner  party.  Those  who  have  heard  him  preach 


PROPHECIES. 


40 

say  that  his  mind  bears,  a wonderful  resemblance  to  Sir 
James  Hamilton’s  and  Jonathan  Edwards’.  Bob  Wallace 
is  still  in  Henniker  and  is  a Justice  of  the  Peace.  “ With 
fair  round  belly  and  good  capon  lined,”  he  presides  over 
his  high  court,  and  with  his  wonted  suavity  deals  out  jus- 
tice and  logic  in  the  same  breath.  Bob  would  be  a respect- 
able man  if  he  would  not  so  “mingle  tales”  together,  a 
habit  he  acquired  Sophomore  year.  Pat  at  first  taught 
school,  and  presided  over  one  of  those  rills,  other  than 
water  that  trickle  down  the  sunny  slopes  of  Vermont’s  green 
hills.  Finding  these  two  employments  incompatible,  he 
embarked  in  the  dog  trade,  but  failed,  owing  to  an  unfor- 
tunate proclivity  he  had  of  presenting  dogs  to  his  lady 
friends,  and  delivering  them  in  their  own  parlors.  Thus 
Pat  fell  into  disgrace  through  no  fault  of  his  own  ; for  if 
ever  honesty,  generosity,  sound  head  and  good  heart, 
were  united,  they  exist  in  our  class-mate,  John  H.  Patter- 
son. Pat  is  now  in  Missouri  with  “ them  fellers  ” in  a saw 
mill. 

As  I was  traveling  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  in  the 
year  ’75,  I happeued  to  ascend  one  of  the  highest  peaks. 
IJp  among  the  fleecy  clouds,  far  above  the  earth,  and  so 
removed  from  its  baser  passions,  I beheld  a form  moving 
swiftly  along  in  the  same  hurried  manner  as  once  crossed 
the  street  to  Prof.  Haskell’s.  To  my  joy  I recognized 
C.  R.  Haywood.  After  a warm  welcome  he  invited  me  to 
his  camp.  Arriving  there,  I saw  with  wonder  a dozen  or 
more  huge  coffee-pots.  On  asking  the  use  of  these,  he 
told  me  that  he  had  discovered  that  boiling  old  pipes  in 
coffee-pots  added  so  much  to  their  sweetness  and  value 
that  they  command  a ready  sale,  and  he  was  fast  making 
a fortune.  Cassius  protested  solemnly,  however,  against 
the  slander  of  his  enemies,  that  he  boiled  his  pipes  and 
coffee  in  the  same  vessel.  I almost  forgot  to  say  that  he 
had  quite  a robust  looking  digger  Indian  squaw  for  a wife, 
who  at  dinner,  served  us  up  a very  civilized  pudding. 

Jack  Green  is  now  captain  of  the  Atlantics,  and  is  con- 
sidered to  be  the  best  base  bailer  of  any  age  or  clime.  He 
also  owns  one  of  the  largest  elevators  in  Buffalo,  which, 
however,  is  a minor  matter.  You  are  not  to  think,  from 
these  facts,  that  Mr.  Johnson  is  by  any  means  a Buffalo 
rough,  as  he  is  yet  the  same  gentlemanly  Jack.  Hill  is  a 
Methodist  preacher  in  Concord,  and  is  as  gentle,  suave, 


PROPHECIES. 


41 

kind,  respectful  and  courteous  as  of  yore  in  our  college 
days.  His  sermons  are  characterized  by  that  forcible 
language  with  which  we  were  so  well  acquainted.  His 
favorite  sermon  has  for  the  text,  “ Paul  as  an  ugly  cus- 
tomer.” Hill  is  also  one  of  the  most  prominent  republic- 
ans in  New-Hampshire,  and  his  voice  is  always  raised  in 
favor  of  all  the  down-trodden  and  oppressed  of  the  earth. 
The  poor  negroes  are  his  especial  care.  He  maintains 
several  at  his  own  or  congregation’s  expense,  and  it  is  un- 
derstood in  Concord’s  upper  ten  that  he  is  soon  to  lead 
to  the  hymeneal  altar  one  of  South-Carolina’s  fairest,  but 
blackest  daughters.  May  he  be  happy. 

Dearborn  has  now  seen  his  half  century  of  human  life, 
and  is  Superintendent  of  Public  Instruction  in  Massachu- 
setts. He  is  still  erect  and  vigorous,  and  a grand-father, 
and  his  hair  is  of  as  fresh  a hue  as  when  a playful  and 
prankish  Senior.  His  enemies  attribute  this  to  Christa- 
doro’s  Hair  Dye,  but  I do  n’t  believe  it.  Wilson  married 
his  landlady  ; changed  his  name  for  the  sake  of  the  prop- 
erty, and  is  the  flourishing  proprietor  of  a haberdasher’s 
shop  ; also  of  a sawing  establishment.  King  is  an  orator 
and  editor,  and  does  not  give  the  lie  to  his  youthful  prom- 
ise. He  harangues  temperance  societies  and  village  lyce- 
ums,  and  can  be  secured  for  two  dollars  per  evening.  Pie 
is  also  a member  of  the  Massachusetts  Legislature ; that 
body,  which,  having  used  up  all  practical  ideas,  now  de- 
bates nothing  but  abstract  theories.  King  is  a good  mem- 
ber of  the  body.  I heard  him  in  one  of  <the  debates  in 
which  the  question  was,  “ whether  genius  was  merely  a 
bundle  of  inferences,  or  a concatenated  syllogistic  racioci- 
nation.”  King,  of  course,  advocated  the  latter.  Pie  said, 
“Mr.  Speaker,  I shall  not  remain  silent  while  I have  a 
voice  that  is  not  dumb  in  this  assembly.  The  gentleman, 
Sir,  can  not  expostulate  this  matter  to  any  future  time  that 
is  more  suitable  than  now.  He  may  talk,  Sir,  of  the  Her- 
culean revolutions  where  republics  are  tergiversated  in 
Artie  regions,  and  the  work  of  centuriums  refrigerate  to  ash- 
es ; but,  Sir,  I can  tell  him,  indefatigably,  that  the  conse- 
quences therefrom,  multiplied  subterraneously  by  the  ever- 
lasting principles  contended  for  thereby,  can  no  more  shake 
this  resolution  than  the  roar  of  Niagara  rejuvenate  around 
these  walls,  or  the  howl  of  the  midnight  tempest  confla- 
grate the  marble  statue  into  ice.”  That  is  what  he  said. 


PROPHECIES. 


42 

I heard  him  nine  hours  in  the  same  strain,  and  I see  by 
the  Boston  Journal  that  he  is  still  Occupying  the  floor. 

Brickett  was  for  a time  proprietor  of  M.  & A.’s 
Minstrel  Troupe,  and,  for  the  eminent  qualities  shown 
therein,  became  the  head  of  Exeter  Academy,  where  he 
succeeds  in  putting  the  boys  through  in  two  years,  instead 
of  three.  Brick’s  early  education  convinced  him  of  the 
feasibility  of  this  plan.  Wherever  he  goes,  or  whatever 
he  does,  may  success  attend,  generous,  single-hearted,  pop- 
ular Brick.  I know  that  you,  classmates,  will  heartily  join 
me  in  the  wish.  Charlie  Atwood  is  not  the  quack-doctor 
proprietor  of  “ Atwood’s  Bitters.”  We  know  him  too 
well  for  that.  On  the  contrary,  Charlie  is  married,  runs 
an  oyster  shop,  and  still  tells  his  “old,  old  story”  of  a 
winter  evening,  with  the  old  gusto.  Joe  Ladd  ran  a “ tea 
plantation  ” for  a short  period,  but  was  tempted  into  a 
large  “speculation,”  and  finally  stranded  at  Grout’s  Sta- 
tion, Massachusetts,  where  he  remains,  vainly  inquiring  the 
way  to  Goose  Pond.  Your  prophet  fears  that  Joe’s  stay 
at  Grout’s  will  be  quite  lengthy,  as  he  has  forgotten  the 
road.  Joe  is  a stout  Yorkist,  having  routed  the  forces  of 
Lancaster  on  the  Hampshire  race-course  in  a 'pitched  battle. 

C.  C.  Woodman  is  as  powerful  as  in  days  “ lang  syne,” 
when  he  “ larded  the  lean  earth.”  He  ran  a Cape  Cod 
singing  school  for  some  months,  but,  on  it  being  reported 
by  Roach,  who  was  jealous  of  Charlie’s  superiority  with 
the  ladies,  that  he  was  really  one  of  Pharaoh’s  fat  kine, 
was  forced  to  leave,  by  the  indignant  Coddies,  whom  he 
coddled  na  mair.  Arriving  in  Boston,  and  imprudeutly 
showing  “ hisself,”  he  was  immediately  chosen  Alderman 
of  the  Hub,  and  is  now  required,  much  to  his  disgust , to 
eat  340  times  per  year  in  the  presence  of  the  Japanese 
and  other  barbarians,  who  come  to  inspect  our  institutions, 
of  which  Charles  is  not  the  least.  They  all  unite  in 
declaring  Woodman  the  most  wonderful  sight  in  the 
country.  The  King  of  the  Cannibal  Islands  had  his 
feelings  so  touched  by  the  tempting  sight  that  he  bid 
high  for  his  possession,  offering  two  strong  minded  old 
women  in  exchange.  The  Bostonians,  however,  refused 
to  part  with  him,  even  for  so  large  a bribe,  declaring  that 
they  would  as  soon  sell  Bunker  Hill  as  Woodman.  The 
Cannibal  King  departed,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  has 
since  starved  to  death,  in  despair  of  ever  eating  the  little 


PROPHECIES. 


43 

tit  bit.  It  is  almost  needless  to  add  that  Charlie  is  a strong 
pwseyite. 

McDavitt  and  Maynard  kept  a partnership  billiard 
saloon,  &c.,  in  Manchester.  Using  their  own  implements 
of  trade  too  much,  they  failed,  and,  seeing  the  error  of 
their  ways,  became  regenerated,  and  are  now  itinerant 
preachers  ; Mac  a new  light,  and  Burr  a hard-shell  Baptist. 

Since  the  above,  I learn  that  they  have  retired  to  Car- 
lisle, Scotland,  and  have  “hung  their  banners  on  the  outer 
wall.”  Long  may  they  wave,  for  in  both  Mac  and  Burr, 
exist  the  very  souls  of  self-denial  and  kind-heartedness. 
Burr  has  quit  gymnastics  since  his  last  great  feat.  Whip- 
ple and  Noyes  formed  a partnership  and  practiced  law  in 
Jersey.  That  benighted  State  wished  to  arrest  one  of 
them,  but  did  not  know  which  to  take,  as  the  friends  want- 
ed to  enact  the  roles  of  Damon  and  Pythias,  or  Achilles 
and  Patroclus,  with  the  little  exception  that  neither  was 
willing  to  play  Pythias  or  Patroclus.  Jersey,  glad  to  get 
rid  of  both,  seized  the  opportunity  and  the  culprits, 
with  the  connivance  of  the  State  of  New-Hampshire  and 
others , and  hung  Noyes  over  a slow  fire  until  he  was  done 
brown,  at  the  same  time  compelling  Whip,  to  his  great 
anger,  to  stand  for  ever  Phi  Beta.  Noyes  is  now  partner  of 
George  Peabody,  the  banker;  they  both  hailing  from 
Georgetown,  Mass.,  B.  C.  doing  the  business  in  George- 
town, and  Peabody  in  London.  Bainbridge  is  a good  man, 
and  a prop  of  Beecher-church,  but  wont  sing  in  the  choir 
on  Sunday  nights.  Whip  is  quite  a respectable  character 
for  New-Jersey.  They  are  both  as  ever  celi-bates,  but 
Ezekiel  the  more  so.  Thomas  is  a Presbyterian  preacher 
of  the  “rale  ould”  Calvin  stock,  and  preaches  true  blue 
John  Knox  orthodoxy.  He  is  pastor  of  a church  in  Con- 
toocookville,  N.  H.,  the  land  he  loves  so  well,  and  lives 
high  on  seventy  dollars  a year  and  run  of  the  kitchen, 
which  last  perquisite  he  much  prefers  to  his  regular  salary  ; 
always  being  on  hand  at  hash.  Tom  is  also  constable  and 
tax-gatherer  (0.  B.  A.  tacks)  and  temperance  lecturer,  hold- 
ing up  Quilp  as  an  awful  example  of  tippling,  which  the 
aforesaid  Quilp  by  no  means  resents,  as  Tom,  for  his  own 
purposes,  keeps  him  well  supplied  with  the  ardent.  Tom 
also  varies  the  monotony  of  his  parochial  duties  by  acting 
as  agent  for  Mack  and  Arnold’s  Minstrel  Troupe,  with  Pat 
as  doorkeeper.  The  Pev.  Alfred  A.  Thomas,  while  act- 


PROPHECIES. 


44 

in#  as  such  agent,  goes  under  the  nom  deplume,  of  George 
Tillinghast.  McMurphy  is  in  the  syrup  trade  in  Vermont, 
and,  though  his  profits  are  large,  they  are  much  reduced 
by  Woodman  and  Palmer’s  stealings.  Through  the  medic- 
inal qualities  of  his  beverage,  however,  Mac  hopes  soon 
to  acquire  a competency.  On  his  bottles,  Mac  places  a 
label,  with  a sentence  to  draw  attention  to  his  nostrum  af- 
ter the  manner  of  Hostetter  and  Drake.  It  runs  thus: 
“Kentucky  was  formerly  a vast  wilderness,  inhabited  only 
by  the  red  man  of  the  forest.”  Underneath  this  is  a pic- 
ture of  Brick  in  his  happiest  moments. 

A!  the  dessert  always  comes  after  the  substantial,  as  the 
end  of  a novel  is  its  most  exciting  part,  so  we  now  come 
to  McKeice,  and  Merrill,  and  Wright,  and  Ketcham,  and 
Willard,  and  Palmer  and  Bartlett.  Of  these,  Merrill  is 
in  jail — for  laziness  ! He  was  first  put  in  the  poor-house, 
but  proved  too  lazy  for  that.  He  did  not  become  so  at 
once,  but  progressed  rapidly,  and,  finally,  became  too  lazy 
to  do  any  thing  but  eat.  A friend  of  his  told  me  the  af- 
fecting story  which  preceded  and  brought  on  his  incarcer- 
ation. His  peculiar  infirmity  at  last  grew  upon  him  to  such 
an  extent  that  he  determined  to  die  rather  than  work. 
His  friends,  knowing  his  character,  would  not  feed  him, 
and,  finally,  he  appointed  a day  for  his  own  funeral.  So 
into  a wagon  he  was  placed,  and  off  he  rode.  On  the  way 
to  the  graveyard,  his  dearest  friend  met  the  cortege , and 
told  Merrill  that  he  would  furnish  him  corn  enough  for 
one  year,  if  he  would  but  consent  to  live.  Charles,  with- 
out raising  his  head  from  his  box,  asked  if  the  corn  was 
shelled.  “ Ho,  was  the  reply.  “Drive  on,”  was  C.  IT.’s 
laconic  order  to  the  driver.  This  so  disgusted  his  friends 
that  they  sent  him  to  the  Haverhill  jail,  where  he  now  re- 
sides, leading  a very  checquered  existence. 

Ketcham  is  dispensing  lager  beer  and  the  Indiana  State 
School  Fund  at  the  same  time.  He  is  also  Chief  of 
Police  in  Indianapolis,  and  would  like  to  be  a justice  of 
the  peace,  and  thus  unite  the  executive  and  judiciary. 
For  Tom’s  information  I will  say,  that  Cap.  is  married 
to  a “ first  class  woman,”  and  is  probably  the  most 
popular  Dutchman  in  Indiana.  But,  alas!  his  old,  manly 
form  has  sadly  changed  ; no  longer  can  he  stand  erect 
upon  his  head.  Too  much  lager  has  altered  the  point  of 
balance,  and  Cap.  is  very  obese.  McNeice  and  Wright 


PROPHECIES. 


45 

have  engaged  in  the  Jew  clothing  business  together. 
The  partners  possess  peculiarly  good  qualifications  for 
their  trade  ; McNeice,  because  he  knows  the  price,  texture 
and  quality  of  every  coat,  pant  or  vest,  he  ever  saw  or 
expected  to  see;  and  Wright,  as  he  makes  a first  rate 
exhibiting  block,  and  enlivens  a show  window  brilliantly. 
In  fact,  as  a walking  advertisement  of  the  combined 
tailoring  establishment,  he  appears  as  though  he  were 
melted  and  poured  in.  On  the  streets  he  is  forced  to 
carry  a club  to  keep  off  the  women.  The  partners  started 
in  life  with  a basket  of  China  ware,  which  they  traded 
for  “ old  clothes.”  Beginning  in  a small  waj7  they  bid 
fair  in  a few  years  to  be  worth  $1000  each.  They  are 
both  very  decent  fellows,  however,  and  deserve  a better 
fate.  Mac’s  only  fault  is  the  too  frequent  use  of  an 
objurgation  marvelously  resembling  the  abbreviation  of 
the  title  of  Doctor  of  Divinity.  Yet,  withal,  it  is  sad  to 
think  of  two  such  bright  intellects  sunk  so  low.  Mac, 
instead  of  orations,  writes  clothing  bills,  and  Amos 
composes  poetical  advertisements.  Oh  Orator!  Eheu 
Poet!  How  are  the  mighty  fallen.  Amos  has  charge  of 
the  button  department,  while  Mac  looks  after  the  prices. 
P.  S.  Wright  is  not  yet  married.  Bartlett  is  working  in 
a distillery  in  Peoria,  111.,  and  maketh  money  fast,  which 
he  as  fast  doth  spend.  He  was  for  a long  while  a guide 
in  the  White  Mountains,  but  his  locomotive  powers 
became  so  impeded  by  a peculiar  infirmity,  that  he  was 
forced  to  desist  from  that  lucrative  occupation,  and  take 
up  one  in  which  his  hands  would  be  free.  He  chafes 
even  now  at  the  idea  of  working  in  a distillery.  But  “ to 
these  base  uses  do  welcome  at  last.”  He  hopes  soon  to 
be  freed  from  work,  as  he  has  patented  a new  method  of 
placing  ladies  in  the  saddle.  He  has  a nicely  fitted  up 
room,  to  which  he  invites  his  friends,  telling  them  to 
make  themselves  at  home,  “as  every  thing  he  owns  is 
theirs.”  But  with  all  these  things  I will  say  that  Bart,  is 
a true  gentleman,  and  deserved  a better  fate,  which  I 
could  not  in  justice  to  the  class  give  him. 

Palmer  now  sighs  for  his  future.  Ah,  Johnnie,  I could 
not  forget  you  if  I would,  and  I would  not  if  I could. 
Poach  is,  and  has  been,  since  leaving  College,  in  all  kinds 
of  traffic,  including  the  vending  of  tax-evading  cigars. 
“Better  than  ten  cent  ones,  Sir;  only  cost  three.” 


46  PROPHECIES. 

Johnnie  still  peruses  the  page  of  human  nature  on  H 

Street,  and  pays  dearer  for  his  information  than  if  he  got 
it  of  more  respectable  teachers.  I am  told  that  John  was 
recently  to  be  married  to  “ her  of  the  Cape.”  Every 
thing  was  in  readiness — preacher,  bride,  company  and 
refreshments  ; every  thing  but  Palmer.  Finally  after  all 
had  dispersed,  and  the  bride  that  was-to-be  was  mourning 
alone,  he  appeared,  and  wanted  the  ceremony  to  go  on. 
The  bride  refused,  and  Johnnie  mourns  even  yet  over  the 
old  saying  that  “ procrastination  is  the  thief  of  time.” 
It  is  confidently  believed  by  our  hero’s  friends  that  he 
wfill  appear  just  too  late  on  the  “last  day,”  and  wrill  not 
find  admittance,  either  into  the  sheep  or  goats,  but  will 
browse  around  upon  the  herbs  of  eternity,  a go-it  by 
himself.  He  is  an  eminently  successful  quack  doctor — 
leaving  disease  at  the  very  doors  of  his  victims,  for  which 
he  must  be  consulted  as  to  the  remedy.  He  is  a splendid 
practitioner  for  cows  — not  meaning  thereby  to  call 
McMurphy  a cow.  Since  predicting  the  above  I learn 
that  J.  W.  P.  is  dead.  In  a paper,  under  the  heading 
of  “ great  falls,”  it  is  said  that  J.  W.  Palmer,  a citizen 
of  Wells  Fleet,  in  attempting  to  climb  the  height  of 
absurdity — a feat  he  had  often  performed  before — fell  to 
the  ground,  and  alighted  on  his  head.  His  brains  covered 
the  country  for  acres  round  about.  I must  say  here,  that 
I could  not  close  these  prophecies  without  killing  one  of 
you.  Henderson  having  foundered,  Roach  was  the  only 
man  of  you  fit  to  die,  or  at  least  to  be  buried.  And  now 
I come  to  my  last  patient  who,  I perceive,  has  been 
waiting  patiently , longingly.  I approach  him  with  great 
bodily  fear  and  reverence  of  mind. 

Our  wTOrthy  and  veracious  chronicler  nowT  claims  our 
undivided  attention.  What  to  do  with  him  I hardly 
know,  but  something  I must.  Some  future  must  be  laid 
out  for  him,  as  he  is  utterly  and  constitutionally  unable 
to  make  one  for  himself.  He  was  at  first  connected  with 
the  Vassar  Female  College  Transcript,  and,  as  its  affable 
editor,  gained  many  friends  among  his  lady  subscribers. 
At  last,  however,  he  wTas  caught  philandering  under  the 
cedar  trees  with  a “ muslin-robed  angel,”  by  the  authori- 
ties, and  unceremoniously  ejected  from  the  sacred  and 
time-honored  walls  of  that  beer-founded  institution. 
Taking  his  “ fortune  on  his  shoulders,”  as  Atwood  says, 


PROPHECIES. 


% 


47 

he  wandered  out  nearly  as  destitute  as  on  that  memorable 
cold  winter  morning,  when,  borne  forty  miles  from  home, 
without  a cent  in  his  pocket  (differing  in  that  respect 
from  Haywood,  who  had  a s-cent  in  his),  I lately  found 
him  a cabin-boy,  or  roustabout , on  a Mississippi  steamer, 
whence  I transferred  him  to  my  office  as  messenger.  I 
would  take  him  into  partnership  for  mere  pity,  were  he 
not  so  addicted  to  stretching  the  long-bow — he  having  no 
more  idea  of  veracity  than  Fra  Antonio  Agapida,  or  these 
prophecies. 

And  now,  my  class-mates,  I bid  you  farewell,  hoping 
that  you  will  give  me  credit  for  having  “ set  naught  down 
in  malice.”  In  forty-eight  hours  you  will  have  passed  for 
ever  from  the  portals  of  our  Alma  Mater . In  forty-eight 
hours  you  will  be  liberally  educated  men.  You  can  see 
the  18th  as  well  as  I.  We  see  the  winding  procession 
under  the  immemorial  trees,  and  along  the  sunny  paths, 
You  occupy  the  bema  one  by  one.  Upon  you  gaze  pleas- 
ed fathers,  anxious  mothers,  pretty  sisters,  encouraging 
sweethearts.  You  see  the  fluttering  of  fans  ; you  scent 
the  arabic  perfumes,  and  you  hear  the  inspiring  melody  of 
rare  music.  You  receive  your  diplomas,  and  emerge 
from  the  old  church  changed  from  merry  boys  to  sad  men. 
May  you  have  the  sweet  memory  lingering  round  your 
hearts,  as  you  grow  old  and  care-worn,  that  your  college 
days  were  beneficial;  that  you  spent  them,  not  in 

“ Toys,  nor  lust,  nor  wine, 

But  search  of  deep  philosophy, 

Wit,  Eloquence  and  Poesy.” 

Though  these  futures  I have  given  you  can  not  be  altered 
except  by  yourselves,  yet  let  me  implore  you,  in  the  words 
of  the  sweet  old  song — 

“ To  horse  ! to  horse,  brave  comrades,  all, 

And  don  your  helmes  amaine  ; 

Deathe’s  couriers,  Fame  and  Honor,  call 
Us  to  the  field  againe. 

No  shrewish  tears  shall  fill  our  eye 
When  the  sword-hilt’s  in  our  hand, — 

Heart-whole  we  ’ll  part  and  no  whit  sighe 
For  the  fayrest  of  the  land  ; 

Let  piping  swaine,  and  craven  wight, 

Thus  weepe  and  puling  crye, 

Our  business  is  like  men  to  fight,  j, 

And  hero-like  to  die.” 


ADDRESS  TO  THE  PRESIDENT. 


By  CASSIUS  R.  HAYWOOD. 


Honored  and  Respected  Sir  : As  tired  travelers  sit 
down  at  their  journey’s  end, .amidst  the  splendor  of  the 
sunset,  to  define  the  countenances  seen,  and  pass  before 
the  mind  the  incidents  that  have  occurred,  a feeling  of  sad- 
ness steals  over  them,  which  is  only  dispelled  by  an  antici- 
pation clothed  with  happiness  ; and  so  this  occasion  sug- 
gests alike  pain  and  pleasure,  as  we  look  upon  the 
shadowy  outline  of  the  long  procession  as  it  recedes,  filled 
with  actions  and  events  which  form  another  chapter  in 
that  volume  that  covers  well  nigh  a century.  Could  “ we 
count  only  those  hours  that  are  serene,”  and  take  note  of 
time  only  by  its  benefits,  and  neglect  the  frowns  of  fate, 
joy  alone  would  pervade  the  human  heart,  and  we  might, 
in  this  happy  abstraction,  make  our  lives  one  long  vision 
of  unmolested  ease.  But  the  closing  year  speaks  plainly 
that  we  must  leave  our  banquet  of  pleasure  to  meet  in 
the  opening  scene  which  brightens  but  deceitfully  as  we 
approach  the  gathering  storm  that  decks  those  purer 
regions  with  a dark  canopy  of  clouds.  Did  we  go  hence 
with  that  experience,  which,  like  the  stern  light  of  a ship, 
enlightens  only  the  track  it  has  passed,  we  might  well 
fear  for  our  sanguine  hopes  to  encounter  sordid  realities  ; 
but  on  every  hand  we  are  reminded  that  the  same  foun- 
tain of  truth  which  has  nourished  so  many  of  the  world’s 
great  and  good,  still  wells  forth  its  living  waters,  from 
which  we  all  together  to-day  take  a long,  last  draught.  As 
we  have  looked  upon  the  broad  highway  of  heaven,  paved 
with  worlds  ; upon  the  mountains,  made  up  by  a friend- 
ship of  little  matters ; upon  the  waters  paying  silent 
homage  to  the  Almighty  as  they  pass  ; as  we  have  pon- 
dered over  the  labors  of  other  generations,  over  the 
mysteries  of  infinite  wisdom  ; as  we  have  followed  the 


ADDRESS  TO  THE  PRESIDENT.  49 

everlasting  in  his  word,  and  analyzed  the  human  mind, 
we  have  gained  a knowledge  that  must  pass  in  trans- 
figuration, and  come  out  globed  and  molded  in  our  every 
thought  and  action.  And  it  is  with  the  hope  that  our 
minds  are  becoming  more  enlightened  from  the  chaos  of 
moral  infirmities  and  intellectual  deficiences,  that  we  ven- 
ture, with  independence  of  spirit,  to  span  the  gulf  which 
sunders  the  ideal  from  the  real. 

Honored  Sir: — It  was  that  same  glorious  autumn  in 
which  we  were  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  student 
life,  that  you  assumed  the  robes  of  office,  and  the  in- 
terest that  was  awakened  then,  as  you  entered  upon 
your  new  duties,  has  become  so  strong  and  vital,  that 
voices  from  every  quarter  have  responded,  which  speak 
forth  to-day,  not  only  in  that  edifice  so  lately  completed, 
and  various  plans  already  in  execution,  but,  also,  in  an 
increasing  clatter  of  footsteps  in  our  halls.  And  may  that 
influence  you  have  so  aptly  exerted  still  continue  to  affect 
those  possessed  of  a munificent  affluence.  We  regret  to 
think  that  some  of  that  learned  corps  of  instructors  with 
whom  we  have  been  favored;  those  whose  erudition  and  ex- 
perience render  them  most  fit,  have  left  to  grace  the  chair 
in  other  seats  of  learning  ; and  we  trust  the  vacant  places 
may  be  again  filled  with  men  of  like  wisdom  and  pru- 
dence as  in  the  past.  Of  the  class,  but  a few  more  than 
half  of  those  who  began  are  here  to-day.  Some,  through 
impatience,  and  others  through  necessity,  have  exchanged 
these  classic  retreats  for  the  jostling  highway  of  life,  and 
one  alone  has  received  that  inevitable  summons  which 
presses  hard  upon  us  all.  As  some  have  left  us,  others 
have  made  good  their  places,  and  we  now,  as  another  class 
of  actors,  who  have  sustained  the  parts  of  the  passing 
drama,  stand  on  the  verge,  which  changes  the  happy  smile 
of  social  intercourse  for  the  melancholy  of  final  separation. 
As  our  ways,  which  have  thus  far  been  the  same,  must 
now  divide,  we  depart,  an  adventurous  band,  cherishing 
the  deepest  sympathy  and  tenderest  interest  in  you  and 
your  associates,  and  a fond  reverence  for  our  alma  mater , 
to  receive  in  turn  a word  of  counsel  and  admonition  in 
our  morning  promise,  that  we  may  .with  candor  and  firm- 
ness meet  “the  world  and  its  dread  laugh.” 


4 


ODE. 


By  CHARLES  F.  ATWOOD,  Malden,  Mass. 


Air— “Twenty  years  ago.” 

The  onward  course  of  fleeting  time 
Has  gathered  us  to-day, 

To  clasp  the  hand,  and  drop  the  tear 
That  Friendship  bids  us  pay. 

That  Friendship,  now  so  doubly  dear 
To  us  who  felt  its  glow, 

That  bound  our  hearts  so  firm  in  one — 
Brothers,  four  years  ago. 

The  days,  the  months,  the  rolling  years 
Have  fled  so  swiftly  past, 

We  scarce  can  feel,  or  seem  to  feel 
That  this  one  is  the  last. 

The  same  old  faces  greet  us  now 
That  once  we  used  to  know ; 

When  Dartmouth  first  a greeting  gave — 
Brothers,  four  years  ago. 

We  ’ve  fought  the  fight  that  honor  claimed — 
The  good  race  we  have  run  : 

For  truth  and  manhood  boldly  struck, 

And  now  the  goal  is  won. 

Yet  still  through  all  our  joy  and  glee 
The  starting  tear  will  flow  : 

We  ’re  parting  now — how  different  then — 
Brothers,  four  years  ago. 

But  now  life’s  battle-shout  invites — 

We  ’re  girded  for  the  fight : 

Fond  memories  we  leave  behind, 

To  strike  for  truth  and  right. 

The  good  right  hand  of  fellowship 
We  pledge  through  weal  or  woe  ; 

The  same  right  hand  we  proffered  then — 
Brothers,  four  years  ago. 


FAREWELL  ADDRESS  AT  THE  “OLD  PINE.” 


Br  BEN.  FRANKLIN  BRICKETT,  Haverhill,  Mass. 


“ To  know,  to  esteem,  to  love,  and  then  to  part. 

Makes  up  life’s  tale  to  many  a feeling  heart.” 

Fellow-Classmates: — We  are  assembled  here  to-day, 
beneath  this  umbrageous  old  pine,  to  celebrate  a custom, 
which  may  well  be  called  the  pleasantest  episode  in  our 
closing  college  days,  with,  of  course,  the  exception  of  that 
inestimable  pleasure,  of  which,  Providence  permitting,  we 
partake  day  after  to-morrow.  You  know  to  what  I refer, — 
“ the  taking  of  our  diploma.’ ’ A boon,  to  the  attainment 
of  which  so  many  have  stacked  the  cards,  turned  jack, 
revoked,  and  put  up  every  possible  point  during  their  col- 
lege course.  “ Procul , 0 Procul  este , profani.” 

We  are  gathered  here,  to-day,  to  bid  a last  adieu  to  the 
familiar  objects  which  surround  our  college  home,  and,  a3 
a band  of  brothers,  to  grasp  each  other  by  the  hand 
and  renew  our  vows  of  love  and  friendship — troths 
which,  we  trust,  will  remain  unsevered,  wherever  life’s 
bark  shall  bear  us.  We  would,  to-day,  have  those  little 
jealousies,  which,  during  our  course,  have  entered  our 
midst,  and  produced  the  germs  of  estrangement,  scat- 
tered to  the  four  winds  of  the  heavens ; we  would  that  each, 
and  every  one  of  us,  nowT  so  long  together,  should  say, 
farewell,  classmates,  one  and  all.  May  thy  journey  of  life 
be  pleasant  and  prosperous.  Truly  the  poet  says : 

“ ’T  is  death  to  me  to  be  at  enmity. 

I hate  it,  and  desire  all  good  men’s  love. 

Four  years  ago  we  came  together,  “ strangers  in  a strange 
land.”  During  that  time,  we  have  conquered  and  been 


52  FAREWELL  ADDRESS  AT  THE  “ OLD  PINE.” 

conquered.  No  era  in  history  teems  with  more  of  fearful 
disaster  and  glorious  victory  than  the  college  course  of  ’67. 
During  a part  of  our  course,  as  some  of  you  will,  perhaps, 
recollect,  we  indulged  in  a certain  lore,  called  Greek  ; also, 
in  a versatile  tongue,  called  Latin.  These  we  managed 
easily,  and  at  a small  expense  (thorough-breds  being  cheap 
at  that  time).  Mathematics!  “ wiser  abile  dictu  /”  How 
nobly  did  we  charge  its  fortress.  How  sick  we  felt.  How 
shaky  ’bout  the  knee.  Some  of  us  scaled  its  walls,  and 
have  received  the  medal  of  honor ; others,  however,  by  far 
the  most,  were  repulsed,  and  driven  back  in  dire  dismay — 
heart-broken  victims ; but,  we  would  fain  not  dwell  longer 
on  this  dire  theme.  Suffice  it  to  say,  of  good  old  mathe- 
matics, “ requiescant  in  pace .”  During  our  Junior  year,  we 
had  an  introduction  to  “Mr.  Zriny,”  but  did  not  cultivate 
his  acquaintance  extensively,  except  through  the  medium 
of  “MeinherrKetcham,”  to  whom  we  heartily  render  a vote 
of  thanks.  Logic  ! How  often  did  we  sink  into  its  quag- 
mires of  sophistry  and  learning,  only  to  escape  to  the  sur- 
face by  allowing  the  argument.  In  metaphysics,  we  ac- 
quired that  divine  art  of  flunking  gracefully  ; a knack 
which,  we  all  allow,  can  be  obtained  only  by  long-con- 
tinued practice  and  indefatigable  laziness. 

Modesty  restrains  me  from  speaking  of  Edwards.  I 
will  only  quote  the  remarks  of  one  of  “sixty-seven’s  cham- 
pions.” It  is  much  better  than  a novel,  for  sweet  restorer 
balmy  sleep  can  not  be  produced  with  a novel  on  account 
of  its  interest ; but  one  page  of  Edwards  will  produce 
soporific  effects  unknown  even  to  ether  and  laughing  gas. 
Chemisty,  we  all  took  to  naturally.  Confining  ourselves 
to  “scientific  terms,”  troubled  us  the  most.  We  knew  all 
about  it,  of  course,  but  could  not  express  ourselves  ; “ vox 
faucibus  hcesit.” 

Our  worthy  Professor  of  that  science  tells  us  that  our 
college  course  is  worth  ten  thousand  dollars  to  us.  A 
true  statement,  no  doubt,  but  I feel  quite  confident  in  say- 
ing that  some  of  us  would  prefer  the  ten  thousand  ; not 
that  we  regret  our  college  course  in  the  least,  but  it  is  an 
ancient  truism,  that  “ a bird  in  the  hand  is  worth  too  in 
the  bush.”  Be  this  as  it  may,  we  have  acquired  a jewel 
which  none  can  wrest  from  us,  and  which  will,  through 
life,  retain  its  pristine  luster.  You  have  heard  it  said  that 
there  is  no  royal  road  to  knowledge.  A king  in  all  his  glory 


FAREWELL  ADDRESS  AT  THE  “ OLD  PINE.”  53 

must  pursue  the  same  humble  paths  which  we  have  trod  be- 
fore he  can  partake  of  the  fruit  of  this  tree.  Oh  glorious  tree 
of  knowledge  ! may  thy  protecting  branches  shelter  the 
members  of  ol(J  ’67  in  their  heated  march  of  life.  With 
the  poet, we  would  say,  “Oh  Woodman , spare  that  tree.” 
Exercise  your  accustomed  forbearance,  and  touch  not  a 
single  bough.”  We  are  now  at  that  point  in  our  journey 
where  our  paths,  which  have  run  parallel  so  long,  must  be- 
gin to  diverge.  Soon  we  must  separate,  and  although  we 
promise  ourselves  that  we  shall  meet  again,  we  are  but  the 
victims  of  a delusion.  After  a few  years,  we  shall  become 
estranged  from  college  ways,  we  shall  form  new  associa- 
tions and  friendships,  and  soon  forget,  or  remember  with 
indifference,  our  quondam  friends. 

The  college  roue , or  L).  B.  if  you  choose  to  call  him, 
I have  been  told,  is  frequently  the  most  successful  in  life 
(certainly  a cheering  thought  to  some  of  us),  while  he 
who  is  the  pride  of  the  Faculty,  often  settles  into  a pitiful 
drone,  who  can,  indeed,  scan  and  construe  a Greek  Ode 
or  Latin  Hexameters,  twist  mathematics  or  talk  literature 
and  the  line  arts,  but  can  not  read  one  seutence  in  the 
“book  of  human  nature,”  and  knows  but  little  or  nothing 
of  what  can  benefit  himself  or  others. 

I have  been  told  by  others,  having  more  experience 
than  we,  that  these  are  the  dangers  which  press  hard  upon 
us,  when  we  have  crossed  the  “ diplomas’  bourne.”  Im- 
practicability; dread  of  the  tumult  and  strife  of  life;, tog 
great  timidity  ; a fear  to  grapple  with  the  world  ; too  great 
confidence  in  men  and  books  ; too  little  self-reliance, — 
these  are  the  rocks  on  which  the  student’s  bark  is  apt  to  be 
wrecked.  Shoals  and  quicksands  offer  themselves  at  every 
point.  He  must  be  on  the  alert,  that  no  dangers  befall 
him.  Let  us  be  alive,  then,  classmates.  The  race  is  just 
opening  for  us.  Let  us  gird  on  our  armor  and  be  ready 
for  the  fight.  The  next  trump  that  sounds  will  be  the 
trump  of  war,  and  in  the  battle  of  life  let  us  be  good  sol- 
diers, never  weary  of  doing  right.  While  the  actions  of 
others  are  base  and  servile,  may  ours  be  true  and  noble. 
May  the  thoughts  suggested  by  this  scene,  together  with 
our  past  remembrances,  incite  us  to  high  and  noble  aims. 
May  we  be  an  honor  to  the  college,  a blessing  to  the  world, 
and  true  to  God.  And  now,  as  rise  the  smoky  wreaths 
from  our  pipes  of  peace  like  incense  on  the  air,  so  come 


54  FAREWELL  ADDRESS  AT  THE  “ OLD  PINE.” 

up  the  memories  of  our  past  companionship;  and  as  the 
ashes  in  your  pipes  shall  be,  so,  after  a little  while,  shall 
seem  our  college  days. 

Classmates,  our  college  course  is  ended.®  The  calumet 
is  smoked  out.  A long  farewell  to  “ Dear  Old  Dartmouth.” 

% 

% 

GRADUATING  CLASS. 


Atwood,  Charles  Francis, 

Malden,  Ms. 

Bartlett,  Samuel  Colcord, 

Peoria , III. 

Brickett,  Benjamin  Franklin, 

Haverhill,  Ms. 

Brown,  Abram, 

Canterbury. 

Cate,  Almond  Fifield, 

Epsom. 

Dearborn,  Josiah  Greene, 

South  Weare. 

Edgerly,  Joseph  Gardner, 

Manchester. 

Goodhue,  Horace,  Jr., 

West  Westminster, 

Vt. 

Greene,  John  Bradley, 

Buffalo , N Y. 

Haywood,  Rufus  Cassius, 

Fredonia,  N.  Y. 

Henderson,  Henry  Clay, 

Williamstown,  W. 

Va. 

Hill,  Howard  F., 

Concord. 

Irwin,  John  Nichol, 

Keokuk,  la. 

Ketcham,  William  Alexander, 

Indianapolis,  Ind. 

King,  Charles  Francis, 

Lowell,  Ms. 

Ladd,  Joseph  Hartwell, 

Orange,  Vt. 

Lecky,  Thomas, 

Boston,  Ms. 

Mann,  Charles  Hamilton, 

Boston,  Ms. 

Mather,  Frederick  Gregory, 

Cleveland , 0. 

Maynard,  Elisha  Burr, 

Springfield,  Ms.  ■ 

McDavitt,  John  Joseph, 

Boston,  Ms. 

McMurphy,  Henry  James, 

Derry. 

McNiece,  Robert  Gibson, 

Topsham,  Vt. 

Merrill,  Charles  Henry, 

Haverhill. 

Mosher,  George  Abijah, 

Sharon,  Vt. 

Noyes,  Bainbridge  Chaplin, 

Georgetown,  Ms. 

Palmer,  James  Wesley, 

Great  Falls. 

Patterson,  John  Henry, 

Dayton,  0. 

Prescott,  Samuel  Plumer,  Jr., 

Haverhill,  Ms. 

Reed,  Charles  Montgomery, 

West  Bridgewater, 

Ms. 

Sanborn,  Walter  Henry, 

Epsom. 

Thomas,  Alfred  Addison, 

Dayton,  0. 

Wallace,  Robert  Moore, 

Henniker. 

Whipple,  Ezekiel  Webster, 

Jersey  City,  N.  J. 

Willard,  James  Richard, 

Olivet,  Mich. 

Wilson,  Albert  Gallatin, 

Russellville,  0. 

Woodman,  Charles  Carroll, 

Great  Falls. 

W right,  Amos  Willets, 

Springborough,  0. 

I 


